


The Way It Could Have Been

by kc_evans



Series: The Way It Could Have Been [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 32,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kc_evans/pseuds/kc_evans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With morale and trust in the Inquisition at an all-time low, Evelyn Trevelyan seeks out the one man who might be able to take command of the army and begin to set things right again: Cullen Rutherford.</p><p>Cullen declined the commission once but when offered the chance once more, he agrees to take the leap of faith. He's confident in his own abilities but the Inquisition - and its leader - will demand far more than he thought he had to give.</p><p>Slight AU, loosely follows the game plot. Eventual Cullen/F!Inquisitor pairing. Spoilers for the entire game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recruitment

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters are on the shorter side but updates will be regular. Un-betaed. No copyright infringement intended.

Honnleath looked like any other quaint village Evelyn Trevelyan had visited in the past, but it also had the tired look of a place struggling to survive. She had heard that the Hero of Ferelden had picked up a golem here and saved the villagers from darkspawn and a demon, but she had dismissed it as a tall tale because there was no shortage of exaggerations when it came to the Hero. But now, as she traveled to the main square of the village, Evelyn wondered if it was true after all. The few remaining townspeople eyed her with the wariness of those who had seen too much terror but none dared approach her, most likely because of the regiment of Inquisition soldiers trailing behind her.

This wasn’t the image she wanted to portray. Evelyn was aware that Josephine had worked hard to cultivate the Inquisition as an organization that wanted to help, not intimidate. She turned and looked over at Knight-Captain Rylen, one of the few veterans who remained behind after the disaster at Adamant Fortress. “Captain, have your men turn back and make camp at the outskirts of town. I doubt the villagers would appreciate us trampling around as if we’re annexing their homes.”

Rylen hesitated. “My orders were to keep you safe, my lady,” he said.

Evelyn resisted rolling her eyes at the ridiculous command given to him by Cassandra, no doubt. “I’ll be fine. I can protect myself, and you’ll be close enough to charge in if I should scream in terror. Besides, this is recruiting mission.”

The good soldier that he was, Rylen wanted to protest but under her unwavering gaze, acquiesced. He directed the regiment to turn around and move towards the foot of the hill. Evelyn watched as the men obeyed the shouted commands with only a little bit of confusion from the newer recruits who hadn’t been trained thoroughly enough.

She sighed and squared her shoulders. The Inquisition army needed help badly, and Evelyn wasn’t about to let them down.

From Leliana’s scouts, she knew exactly which house was his. It was set back a little ways from others, with what used to be flowers on either side of the door. Thorny weeds and grass now overran the plots of dirt until it tangled with one another in a heap. The cobbled path that led up to the door was worn and several stones had dislodged from its position to create unsettled footing which she dodged with a little hop or two. Evelyn looked at the house and noted the stark contrast from the outside to the house to the building itself. The walls of the house appeared to be in several shades, indicating there had once been holes but as Evelyn looked more closely, the patch jobs completely sealed the broken planks, even if it wasn’t aesthetically pleasing. The shutters were straightened and repaired, the windows fit the frame well, and the door looked solid, with extra bolts and nails to keep it sturdy.

To keep someone in. Or out.

Evelyn took another deep breath, glanced around at the people staring at her, not quite hostile, but not quite welcoming either, and, before she lost her nerve, knocked three times on the door.

There was no response and after a long pause which felt like a year rather than ten seconds, she knocked again harder. Perhaps he had left? But no, Leliana had assured her that he was at home, he had not left in months. Evelyn knocked again and glanced behind her. More townspeople gathered around, their mouths set as they murmured to one another and stared at her.

“Come on, Rutherford, open up,” she muttered under her breath and gave another pound at the door.

It finally opened, gliding inward without a sound. A scowling face emerged from the dark interior and focused on her. “What?” he growled.

Evelyn blinked up at the man. He was only several inches taller than her, but then she had always been the giant in the family. She first noticed his curly, golden hair that must have been a source of shame when he was younger, mussed and tangled as if he hadn’t combed it in weeks. His eyes were an unusual amber, glinting with anger as they stared at her, narrowed with his brows pulled down. On his jaw was a scruff that looked as prickly as the man himself. Her eyes were drawn to the long scar right above his lip, well-healed but very much noticeable.

And Maker preserve her, the man stunk. His clothes, patched with every color imaginable and made of what looked to be hand-me-down rough cotton, hung loosely on his frame, either too big or he had lost an enormous amount of weight. The smell emanated from them, as if he had pulled them out of a water trough and washed them in alcohol.

Evelyn stared, because this was not the man she had envisioned when Cassandra suggested him as the replacement Commander.

She almost turned away just then, back to Rylen and back to Skyhold because he couldn’t be what they so desperately needed. But Cassandra had sang the man’s praises, as much as she sang the praises of anyone, and even Leliana had agreed of the Seeker’s assessment of the man, having met him long ago when he was a Templar.

Evelyn had promised to bring him back with her. She had given her word as the leader of the Inquisition, and she was determined to keep every promise she made.

So, despite her misgivings, she cleared her throat and tried a tentative smile. “Ser Cullen, allow me to introduce myself ...”

“No. Get off my property and leave me alone.” Then he slammed the door in her face before she could even react.

The smile on her face fell away and Evelyn stared at the polished wood in patent disbelief. She heard a few snickers behind her from the townspeople watching the show and she gritted her teeth. Evelyn hated people not listening to her, the result of being the youngest in her family. And she hated being ridiculed when she came on official business for the Inquisition.

Being the youngest and most ignored also gave her stubbornness that usually served her well. Evelyn knocked on the door again briskly and leaned against the wood. “Ser Cullen, I’m here to talk and if you don’t wish to speak in private, I will be happy to shout my purpose for everyone in the village to hear. Then, I’ll leave and let all the gossip mongers drive you insane from all the questions they’ll pepper you with ...”

The door gave way before her once again and Evelyn, unprepared for the sudden opening, lost her balance. Before she could find her footing, an arm shot out and saved her from an embarrassing stumble, or worse, falling flat on her face. 

She looked up and saw the exasperated look in those unusual amber eyes. “I’ll more likely go insane with you prattling outside,” Cullen said curtly, but he stepped back and allowed her entry.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a minute for Evelyn’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. It was a small, one room house with a low roof that made her self-conscious of her height. Inside, the stench of alcohol was stronger and its presence was reinforced with dozens of empty flasks and bottles littering the room, glinting in the sunlight that managed to filter past the grimy windows. She looked around, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell as she noted the single round table, one chair, and a small kitchenette with a fireplace. To the side was a single bedroll, the type normally used by soldiers on the move. Tucked in the far left corner was a chest that presumably contained all the effects of one Cullen Stanton Rutherford, former Templar of Kinloch Hold and Knight-Captain of Kirkwall.

Cullen moved to the middle of the room and crossed his arms, staring at her. “Well?”

Evelyn focused her gaze on the man in front of her, trying to remember all the negotiation tactics Josephine had so helpfully tried to instill in her. Cassandra had offered her own opinions on how to sway Cullen, and Leliana had been in favor of simply bringing him to Skyhold to show him exactly why they needed him.

But her advisors were not here with her. It was just her and Cullen.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here on behalf of the Inquisition. I know Cassandra Pentaghast has approached you before and you refused the commission, but we really need you now.”

The corners of Cullen’s lips tipped up into a smirk. “Ah, yes, your failure at Adamant Fortress.”

Despite herself, Evelyn winced. “You heard about that?”

Cullen let out a bark of laughter that somehow sounded even worse because there was absolutely no trace of humor in it. “I think all of southern Thedas has heard about it by now.” His brow then furrowed and he peered more closely at her in the dim room. “Maker’s breath, you’re the Inquisitor!”

Evelyn shifted her weight from foot to foot, remembering she hadn’t actually introduced herself. “Um, yes. I’m Evelyn Trevelyan.”

He stared at her for a long while, emotions crossing his face but so fleeting she couldn’t name them all. “So you came all this way to Honnleath yourself to personally ask for my help.”

“Yes!” She was relieved that he finally understood.

There was another extended silence as he observed her with less malice but now a troubled expression took place in his eyes. “Is it that bad?”

Josephine had suggested she not tell Cullen everything right away, just give enough information to spark his interest. There would be enough time for hard truths later. But Evelyn had no idea how to do that as words stumbled out of her mouth. “I - no. No?”

“No?”

At the skepticism in his voice, Evelyn threw her hands up. Maker forgive her but she didn’t have Josephine’s people touch or Leliana’s ability to read people. She was on her own and it didn’t seem to be going very well. “Yes, okay? Yes, it is going terribly. We’ve had one setback after another and even though we’ve done some good, it’s not enough! Our so-called allies are beginning to question our effectiveness, our troops are beginning to lose faith in our purpose, and too many good people have died.” She stopped, caught Cullen’s gaze and took in a deep breath to calm her frustration. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for all that to come out. It’s just that ...”

“You’ve bottled all your emotions up for so long, it came pouring out.”

Evelyn blinked twice at the man in front of her, almost dazed by the compassion and understanding in his voice. “Yes. I’m the leader of the Inquisition. I’m supposed to fix things but ever since the attack on Haven, nothing has been going right.” She massaged her temples in vain hopes of stopping a headache before one began, as it always did when she thought about their situation. “Perhaps we have lost our way,” she murmured, more to herself than Cullen and maybe even more about herself.

Cullen studied her for another long moment and Evelyn realized he was a man who was comfortable with and used silence like a weapon. She almost wanted to squirm under his steady gaze but she lifted her chin up to stare back at him. After her frustrations spilled out in one big rush, there was little more she could do to embarrass herself, short of throwing herself at his feet to beg for his help.

At last, Cullen moved towards the hearth and reached out to toss a few logs into the fireplace. He struck flint against steel and started the sparks to a fire with the ease of a man who had done it countless times before. After he coaxed the flames into a serviceable fire, he reached for a candle stub and lit the wick before turning to set it down on the table. He shoved a few bottles away with his foot, ignoring the glass clinking against each other, pulled out the chair and tilted his head towards Evelyn. “Please.”

Evelyn had never seen a drunkard move with such grace and she wondered if Cullen still practiced with a sword and shield, though she saw no sign of any weapons. But that was a mystery to puzzle out later. She moved to take a seat in the chair he indicated and Cullen hooked a stool with his leg from someplace to sit across from her. Up close, the dancing candlelight emphasized the strong jaw underneath the unshaven bristles and golden eyes. His features were rugged and masculine and, if one didn’t mind the mixed aroma of whiskey, stale mothballs, and musty soot emanating from him, a rather handsome man. But Evelyn dragged her mind back to the present and stared at him expectantly.

Cullen leaned forward, gaze solemn, and said, “Tell me everything.”


	3. Chapter 3

Evelyn did. She started from the beginning when the Conclave blew up to the discovery of her mark closing the fade rifts, the formation of the Inquisition, and their victory at stopping the war between the apostate mages and rebel Templars. She paused briefly at the mention of Templars, but Cullen said nothing except to gesture her to continue.

So she explained their mini victories at the Storm Coasts, the confrontation at Val Royeaux, the formation of her Inner Circle and closing the Breach. Evelyn’s voice choked as she recounted the attack at Haven that crippled the growing Inquisition and the subsequent defeat after defeat from Corypheus. “We lost a lot good people there,” she said softly.

Cullen nodded. “But there’s more,” he said. “Adamant.”

Evelyn bit her lip so hard it began to bleed. Their failure there was an especially sore spot for her. “The Grey Wardens were convinced by a magister named Erimond to resort to blood magic in an effort to stop the Blight. Of course Erimond was also one of Corypheus’ puppets. My advisors and I decided we had to stop the Wardens from being used by Corypheus. We devised a plan to storm Adamant Fortress.” She closed her eyes, still remembering the hours of blood and sweat and screams of her men dying all around her. They had almost lost Dorian and Varric as well, something she so desperately wanted to forget.

“The plan failed.”

She shook her head and opened her eyes to look at Cullen. His gaze was soft with sympathy but Evelyn didn’t want pity. “No,” she said, almost not recognizing her voice with the forceful word she spat out. “The plan _utterly_ and _completely_ failed. We lost so many soldiers. Scores of good men and women who willingly went into battle, only to be cut down like they didn’t matter.” Evelyn clenched her hands so tightly her nails almost cut through her leather gloves. “We barely breached the front gate before we had to turn back from the onslaught lest we were all overrun. The Grey Wardens and demons isolated pockets of our soldiers and slaughtered them while we called for a retreat. We ran. We left our people there and ran for our lives.”

Evelyn hated hearing the self-loathing in her voice, but this was the first time she felt allowed to express herself. Josephine and Leliana had repeatedly said it wasn’t her fault but they were wrong. She was the Inquisitor, dammit! If she couldn’t do this, then perhaps she wasn’t the chosen of Andraste after all, and she was deluding everyone, including herself.

She was grateful that Cullen didn’t say empty words in a sad attempt to make her feel better. All he did was nod and encouraged her to continue.

Evelyn heaved a sigh and told the rest of it. “I had told our commander that the Grey Wardens were formidable and our troops needed to be in top condition. He assured me they were, but I was not so convinced after seeing some drills. But we had no time before the ritual began and I had to trust his word.” Her voice turned bitter again as she recalled the confrontation. “When we returned to Skyhold in disgrace, I confronted him, told him he had been lax in training and discipline and his head-on strategy was the reason for our failure. He blamed me in turn, said I was a heretic for declaring myself the Herald of Andraste and a false Inquisitor. He denounced us all, especially me. Then he left with a third of our remaining troops.”

"A third of the army?"

She nodded, cringing at the horrified astonishment of his tone. But Evelyn was unwilling to hold back information any longer, no matter how ugly it sounded. Cullen had a right to know exactly what he was getting into, if he decided to accept the position. "Between Haven, Adamant, and a third of the army leaving, there aren't enough trained soldiers and we are barely holding onto even our established camps across Orlais and Ferelden. We still have pilgrims and refugees joining us, but they have no experience in combat. And yet, I am more alarmed by the fact that we do not have a skilled commander in charge who can train these people and use the Inquisition army to its fullest potential. That's where you would come in."

It was hard to remain still as Cullen considered all she had said. Evelyn waited for his response, suddenly weary as if she had ran from Skyhold to Honnleath. Baring one’s soul to another human being was exhausting, she thought.

“What made you decide to join the Inquisition?” Cullen asked, bringing her back to the present.

Evelyn tried to chuckle as she remembered her first meeting with Cassandra and Leliana. How long ago that seemed, though it had only been months. “Well, at first it wasn’t much of a choice. I mean, I don’t think Cassandra would have killed me if I had refused to, but it was a way to help prove my innocence. And then I guess I began to realize how much good we were doing in the Hinterlands. There were dozens of refugees all needing help and no one was helping. The Arl of Redcliffe was absent and everyone else was busy being scared of the rifts and demons. And suddenly it occurred to me that the Inquisition could be that hope for those people who had been through so much. We had the power to change their lives for the better, and I was proud to be a part of an organization who actually cares.” She shrugged, suddenly self-conscious, and felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m preaching a little.”

“No, it’s good. A person has to be passionate about the cause they serve, or it will become more of a burden than anything else.” Cullen paused and searched her face. “As I suspect what may have happened to your former commander.”

Evelyn tried to smile but it came across as more of a grimace. “I guess you’re right.”

Cullen continued watching her, his gaze intense as if searching for something. “Did Cassandra tell you the reason why I turned the commission down in the first place?”

She shook her head. “No. All she said was that you had a personal reason for doing so, and it was not hers to share.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised she kept her word. The Seeker is an honorable woman.” Cullen stood up so suddenly the stool scraped back with a grating sound and he went to the fireplace, picking up a poker to move the crackling wood around. “I should tell you that I was interested in joining the Inquisition but I felt my current situation would not help your cause.”

Evelyn felt her heart skip a beat, sensing this was the time to tread delicately. “Are you still ah - involved in that current situation?”

The fire illuminated the mocking smile that formed on his lips. “I am.”

She took a deep breath. “Is there anything I or the others at the Inquisition can do to help?”

“No. It is something I chose to do, and I must go about it alone.” Done with rearranging the wood, Cullen set the poker back and stood to face her. “You are, of course, aware that I was a Templar both in Kinloch Hold during the Fifth Blight and Knight-Captain in Kirkwall when the mage rebellion began?”

Evelyn nodded. It was in the extensive background Leliana had compiled on him that she had all but memorized.

“I decided to leave the Order months ago, right before Cassandra approached me, in fact. They were going in a direction I did not agree with, and I could no longer give them anymore, nor they to me. And once I left the Templars, I decided no longer to take lyrium.”

That was not what she was expecting. Evelyn stared at him, her mind starting to connect the dots. She knew lyrium was exceedingly addicting and very few had attempted to stop taking it because the after-effects were so severe. She also knew those who continued taking it for the long-term suffered terrible consequences. “Well, that would explain the drinking,” she said at last.

Cullen raised his eyebrows at her and Evelyn flushed at her blunt words. “I mean, I can’t imagine what you’re going through,” she said, trying to backtrack in a less offensive way. “It must be ... terrible.” She winced at the inelegant finish.

“It has proven more difficult than I expected,” he said, being gracious enough to forgive her blunder.

“What are your withdrawal symptoms?”

Cullen pursed his lips as he gave her a considering look. “Headaches, sweats, bad dreams, sometimes I am physically disabled until the pain passes. It can be a frightening thing to witness. I’ve already scared my neighbors until they avoid me, even if they knew me from before.”

She made a noise to convey her sympathy. “And that is why you turned Cassandra down.”

“It is a good reason to.”

This was going to be unpleasant. Evelyn knew that convincing Cullen to join the Inquisition despite his struggles was only going to happen if she made him confront what he was actually doing. “Well, Ser Cullen, I’m afraid you’re wrong.”

Cullen’s brows snapped up in surprise. “Pardon?”

Evelyn stood up, keeping her gaze locked on him, praying for her words to come out right, just this once. “I admire your desire to free yourself from lyrium, it is not a decision to be taken lightly. But to hide behind that excuse for not joining the Inquisition ... well, to me it seems rather cowardly.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes at her and for a brief moment Evelyn was so very glad she was armed and he was not. But she forged on, conscious of that amber eyed gaze which seemed to bore right through her. “I don’t know you personally, Ser Cullen, but everything I’ve heard about you has been nothing but praise. The Inquisition needs a faithful, skilled soldier like you to help save Thedas. This threat is not going to go away, and you know it.” She leaned forward, now earnest in her speech and the words spilled out as fast as she could form them. “That’s one of the reasons why you holed up in Honnleath instead of South Reach, where the rest of your family is: to protect your childhood home from any threats. What you are doing is admirable, but a waste of your talents and skills. There is a better way to make sure everyone, not just your home town is safe, and that is by commanding the Inquisition army.”

They stared at each other for a long moment and Evelyn didn’t dare even breathe or blink lest she miss some sign on Cullen’s face. But the former Templar appeared to be an expert at keeping his expressions to a minimum - something Josephine ever despaired of Evelyn learning - and she didn’t know how to read him.

When he didn’t speak for another minute, Evelyn finally broke contact and sighed, rubbing her temples again. Now there was pulsing behind her eyes to go along with the pounding of her head. She made one last effort to appeal to his sense of duty. “We need you as much as you need a purpose to live and fight again. Just ... think about it. I’ll be camped just outside the town at the foot of the hills for another day or two if you have any more questions.”

She turned to go, wondering if she should feel accomplished that Cullen hadn’t thrown her out on her ear or deflated that he hadn’t succumbed to her negotiating tactics. Perhaps she should have let Cassandra come along after all, to help convince him of their cause.

Just as Evelyn touched the door, Cullen finally spoke. “Do you really believe you’re the Herald of Andraste?”

Her fingers twitched against the metal knob. How she hated that question. Evelyn would bet half of Skyhold that if she had been one of the Tal-Vashoth at the Conclave and received the Anchor, no one would be asking her that. But she owed him honesty and, from Leliana’s thorough background on the man, he was faithful to the Maker as a good Templar should. “I’m more uncertain of the title than I am of my role,” she said.

“And what role is that?”

Evelyn turned to face him and noticed the challenging gleam in his eyes, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. “To save the world, of course. Not on my own, though I get more than my fair share of accolades. But the Inquisition is no one person. I may lead it as the visible head, but I am not alone.” She let the _and neither will you_ be implied.

Cullen fell silent again and Evelyn caught herself before she shifted uneasily before his scrutinizing gaze. She decided to make one more attempt at an exit but was cut off yet again. “All right, Inquisitor. Let’s see what you can do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating has gone up for language.

The fade rift closest to Honnleath was easy to close after battling a few wraiths and one especially annoying despair demon. Evelyn insisted that Cullen be armed with a borrowed sword for this encounter because, really, the last thing she needed was for her potential new Commander to be killed at a fade rift. Wouldn’t her advisors like _that_?

But she didn't have to worry; Cullen stayed back as she had requested and the demons were easy enough to vanquish with the help of an experienced Inquisition mage who hardly batted an eyelash when faced with a shrieking abomination. 

After using the Anchor to close the rift, out of habit, Evelyn scoured the battlefield for anything useful. She picked up a couple of frosty rags which she stuffed in a bag to give to Helisma for further study. She then trudged back to Cullen and the Inquisition regiment, pleasantly surprised to see the former Templar speaking with Knight-Captain Rylen.

“Thank you for your help, Rayna,” she said to the mage as she passed her, reaching out to squeeze her arm.

“Of course, Your Worship,” the mage said. She then glanced over at Cullen who was still engrossed in his conversation, and lowered her voice to add, “Is that the new Commander?”

“I hope so,” Evelyn said because she still wasn’t sure what Cullen was thinking, though wanting to watch her work was a good sign. Wasn’t it?

“He’s a Templar?”

Evelyn shook her head. “Ex-Templar. You needn’t worry, Rayna. You’ll be under his command but I have every faith that he will be fair to the mages as much as his soldiers.” Though she didn't know if that was exactly true, she trusted Cassandra's judgment of Cullen's character, Leliana's evaluation based on the background she had compiled, and Evelyn's own personal assessment after meeting him. Granted, she hadn't spent a lot of time with Cullen, but she could practically feel the goodness oozing out of him.

Perhaps she was the only one because Rayna simply nodded though her eyes still showed skepticism.

There was nothing else Evelyn could say or do to change the mage’s mind at the moment. So she gave Rayna one more pat on the arm and then moved towards the two men who looked up when she approached. “Am I interrupting?” 

“Not at all. Captain Rylen was just telling me of the situation with the soldiers,” Cullen said. “You did not exaggerate your dire condition.” He then gestured to her left hand. "Does it hurt when you use the mark?"

Evelyn smiled ruefully. "It used to, but I've gotten used to it. Has that rift been bothering your village?"

"I've only been called upon once or twice for assistance when the wraiths tested the boundaries of the rift. Otherwise, we've learned to go around it and avoid the area. It was rather inconvenient, to say the least, so I'm certain everyone will be glad to hear that you've closed the rift. Thank you."

She smiled again automatically, but it faded quickly as she took a good look at Cullen out in the sunshine. A brisk wind flattened his curls against his head before springing up again which should have made him look boyish but ... In the bright light, his patched clothing (Dorian would have scoffed to even consider it worthy of rags) fluttered in an awful cacophony of mismatched colors that seemed to make his skin look more sallow. The shadow on his jaw looked more pronounced and she realized how worn out he looked. A niggle of doubt at pressing him so much to join the Inquisition wormed into her conscious as she noted the tired lines at the corner of his eyes and the stiffness of his shoulders. But she had no choice. Cullen was their best hope to help the Inquisition.

“Inquisitor?” 

Evelyn shook herself, blinking at Rylen who had apparently been speaking to her. “Er, yes Captain?”

“Should I have the men return to camp or make ready to leave?”

She turned to Cullen and raised her brows, determined to let him decide whether or not he could handle the responsibility. There was nothing else she could say or do to sway him. “That is up to Ser Cullen.”

He looked at her and then his gaze fell to the Anchor which she had left uncovered. Evelyn stopped herself from hiding it self-consciously and waited, hoping the answer was what she thought.

Cullen did not disappoint. “All right, Inquisitor. Give me the rest of the day to get my affair in orders and pack my things, and we’ll leave at first light tomorrow.”

A mix of relief and triumph suffused every pore of her body at his words. Oh, how she had needed this win, for herself personally as well as for the Inquisition. Evelyn just stopped herself from throwing her arms around the man in gratitude. She knew that, with Cullen’s help, it would turn the tide of war against Corypheus. And from Rylen’s expression, he thought so too.

*****

The journey back to Skyhold took just under a week and Evelyn used the time to fill Cullen in on his duties and what to expect when they arrived at the fortress. Some of their discussions lasted for hours, once going far into the night, as he asked the questions that convinced her they had indeed found the right man. It was hard to tell Cullen all that was going wrong but she knew he deserved complete honesty. He would find out how bad it was for himself anyway, once they arrived.

On the second evening, they made such good time on military march they camped at the base of the Frostback Mountains where it was still temperate enough not to break out the furs at night. Evelyn picked up two dinner plates, thanked the cook with a nod, and made her way towards Cullen, as usual. She was a little surprised to see him speaking with Rylen again but perhaps she shouldn't have been. Apparently their new Commander had made such a positive impact on the captain and the rest of the regiment, they were now trying to impress him with whatever they did. Evelyn supposed that was a good sign, though the instant admiration from the soldiers made her slightly uncomfortable. Something similar had happened before, and it did not end well for the Inquisition.

As she approached, Rylen looked up, flushed furiously, and mumbled an inaudible excuse as he all but fled the area. Evelyn stared after him before turning to look at Cullen. “What was that about?”

“I asked him about what he thought of you and I suppose he didn’t want you to know what he was saying,” Cullen said with a slight shrug, as if he found nothing unusual with the situation.

Evelyn blinked twice and silently handed Cullen his plate before taking her usual seat near his side. The former Templar had made his own small fire which crackled pleasantly and smelled faintly of elfroot. She had learned early on breathing in the healing herb helped ease his headaches from lyrium withdrawal. “Why would you ask him and not me?” Evelyn asked, wondering if she should be offended or not. And what did that mean if Rylen was running away from her as fast as possible?

Cullen dug into his stew and swallowed before answering. “I wanted an honest opinion of what your soldiers think of you.”

Evelyn frowned into her plate and debated whether or not to ask the question she knew he was waiting for her to ask. “What did he say?” she finally said, curiosity overcoming her trepidation of the answer.

The corners of Cullen’s mouth kicked up in a wry smile. “Nothing bad, I assure you. He admires the good you are doing and how you help everyone you meet, no matter their background. He says you’re very handy in battle with or without the Anchor, and he is certain you are the Herald and he would follow you to the death.”

She winced at his last sentence but a flood of warmth spread over her at the captain’s loyalty. “Rylen is one of the few senior officers who didn’t leave with our former commander. He’s been a great help during these difficult times. I’ve relied on both Cassandra and him to lead the remaining soldiers, but I think he is very glad to have you with us.”

“Yes, he said as much.” Cullen remained silent for a long while. When she didn’t hear the clink of cutlery to indicate he was eating, Evelyn looked up and noticed him staring into the flames. When he finally spoke again, his voice was distant and oddly flat. “I understand the name of your former commander was Samson. I knew him. From Kirkwall.”

Something inside her gut clenched and twisted until it hurt and Evelyn inhaled quietly. She set aside her plate, no longer hungry, and drew her legs up to her chest, clasping her arms around them. “Did you?”

“Yes. He was a decent enough Templar but in the end, his addiction to lyrium began to dictate his actions more than his conscious.”

Evelyn blew out a long breath at speaking on yet another touchy subject. At this rate, there would be no secrets left between them by the time they reached Skyhold. “We found out about his addiction too late, unfortunately. Cassandra was set on recruiting you but when you turned her down, she had no choice but to search for another candidate. From what I understand, Samson heard about the position and approached her first. He hid his weaknesses well, and he easily garnered respect and admiration from our soldiers. So, despite their misgivings that something wasn’t quite right with him, Cassandra and Leliana agreed to ask him to lead.” Evelyn let out a short laugh. “I didn’t like him myself. I thought he was a pompous ass.”

Cullen snorted. “Well, I won’t disagree with you there. He changed, last I saw him.” Evelyn felt his mood shift even darker as he contemplated that change and slowly shook his head. “He used to be a good man. Nice. No one extraordinary, but someone you could rely on.”

The melancholy air around Cullen did nothing to pull Evelyn out of her own funk, but she tried anyway. “Well, we’ve all changed. Some for the better and some for worse. Cassandra said that, in time, history will judge us for what we’ve done. Or, I guess, haven’t done.”

He didn’t answer right away but Evelyn was content in staring at the flames herself, lost in her own thoughts. She had finally won a small victory in recruiting Cullen to the Inquisition, and she was certain he would turn what was left of the army into an actual fighting force. But there was so much left to do and so little time ...

“Inquisitor.”

Startled, Evelyn looked up at Cullen. “Yes?”

Cullen studied her for a moment before giving her the first genuine smile since they met. It was small, but it was there. “You were right. Perhaps the Inquisition needs me, but I need it just as much. A man without a purpose is a sorry man indeed. I will put to right what Samson ruined and make our soldiers the peacemakers Thedas needs.”

It sounded like he was making a personal vow and Evelyn was shaken with just how relieved she felt. “Good. Welcome to the Inquisition, Commander Cullen.”


	5. Transition

It seemed like all of Skyhold turned out to welcome their new leader of the forces. As they started across the long bridge to the fortress, Cullen stared in awe of his new home. Despite some crumbling towers and the saddest bunch of trebuchets he had ever seen, the majestic backdrop against the gleaming of the afternoon sun almost took his breath away. The fortress, despite its age, looked defensible enough, and the soldier in him crowed with delight at the sturdy battlements and smooth walls. With the stories he heard about Haven's destruction, Cullen knew the safety of everyone within Skyhold would be paramount.

As they drew closer, he could see rows of the Inquisition members all lined up to greet them just inside the portcullis. The sight made him cringe and he desperately hoped that the Inquisitor wasn’t expecting him to make a grand speech when they entered the stronghold.

Speaking of the Inquisitor, Cullen glanced to his side as Evelyn strode forward, her steps quickening to get there faster. It was obvious she was eager to be home, from the softening around her eyes and smiling mouth. He was bemused to see that her posture straightened the closer they got to the gate, but not in a stiff way, merely that of someone who had a public persona but loved it anyway.

It was a pity because Cullen appreciated the fact that the Inquisitor did not hide herself from him. In fact, she had been frank and honest about everything. It made his heart hurt every time he pictured the bitter smile on her lips as she recounted failure after failure of the Inquisition that she so deeply believed in. But her willingness to be truthful about everything that happened so far, and how hard on she was on herself, spoke volumes about her character and what kind of Inquisitor she wanted to be. That, as much as the sorry state of the army, finally convinced him to accept the commission.

Three people stepped forward when they finally walked through the portcullis, two of whom he recognized. Cassandra, dressed in what appeared to be some excellent heavy armor gave him a small smile. “Ser Cullen, it is good to see you again. I see the Inquisitor has managed to convince you where I have failed.”

“She was merely more stubborn than you, Seeker,” Cullen said dryly.

“Hey!” Evelyn said indignantly but he simply turned to the next person.

“Sister Leliana, it has been a while.”

“Ten years,” the spymaster confirmed with a nod. “You look well, Cullen.”

He flashed her a brief, sardonic smile. “ _Where_ we meet makes all the difference.”

Something in Leliana’s eyes shifted from the polite mask to almost a kinship of sorts. Which was odd, Cullen thought, because the hardships they went through were not alike in the least. But perhaps it didn’t matter _what_ a person went through so much as knowing that someone had gone through just as much.

“Ser Cullen, may I introduce our ambassador, Lady Josephine Montilyet,” Evelyn said, motioning to the last woman. “She is the driving force in establishing relationships with our allies and representing the best of the Inquisition to the world.”

“I have heard so many great things about you, Ser Cullen. Welcome to Skyhold,” Josephine said with a slight bow. “I know you have only just arrived, but we have been looking for a reason to celebrate and your new position is just the morale boost we need. It would be our privilege to have you as our guest of honor at dinner tonight.”

Cullen tried not to cringe at the thought of having everyone staring at him for hours, but he supposed he would have to get used to it. Evelyn had told him that Skyhold frequently played host to a variety of curious visiting nobles and Inquisition allies to curry their favor. Pasting on a polite smile, he said, “The honor is mine alone, Lady Josephine. I would be delighted.”

She beamed at him and made a note in her scribes book. “Excellent! Your Worship, the people are waiting for you to make the official announcement.”

A slight grimace crossed Evelyn’s face but she just nodded. “Come with me,” she murmured to Cullen and started for the stairs.

The sudden hush in the courtyards except for the occasional squawk of birds made Cullen uneasy but he dutifully followed the Inquisitor until they were high enough for everyone to see them. He stared down at the people whose expressions ranged from hope to skepticism to wariness. It was a look Cullen was accustomed to from Kirkwall citizens after all they had been through, but to see it here disturbed him.

And then realization struck him to the core. These people had gone through a terrible trauma that forever changed them. Even he, with all his past tribulations, couldn't quite understand the pain and betrayal they experienced under Corypheus and others closer to home. And yet, they still stood here today, willing to give their lives for this cause. Lyrium withdrawal or no, how could he do any less?

The public persona he had watched Evelyn adopt came to full force when she faced the crowd below. She had drawn herself up with poise and a commanding presence that showed nothing but confidence. “Inquisition!” she said, loud enough for her voice to carry across the fortress. “As you all know very well, these past few months have been difficult for us all. We have lost loved ones and lost ground. We have seen the desertion of our brothers and sisters in arms. We have lost much, but no more! Now is the time that we step forward and stand our ground. Now is the time to show the world that we have not yet given up and we will fulfill our destiny as peacekeepers of Thedas. And to help us do just that is our new Commander of the forces, Ser Cullen Rutherford!”

_No pressure_ , Cullen thought weakly as the crowd below began to cheer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the brevity of this chapter, the next one will be posted tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

The dinner was as painful as Cullen expected it to be, but after having a hot bath in a tub for the first time in months and changing into some clean clothes, he thought he tolerated it with reasonable patience. A steady parade of people came by his table, introducing themselves and making small talk to the point where he gave up trying to remember names, ranks, affiliations, and whatever else they mentioned. The looks and comments a few of the women threw him were so suggestive he almost choked on his food but Josephine, thank the Maker, came to his rescue and herded them away. Cullen hoped they were seated at the other end of the grand hall. Or, even better, on the other side of the Skyhold.

The Inquisitor, who was sitting next to him, then leaned over to inform him they would have a war council first thing in the morning to catch him up on everything that was happening. “But tonight, enjoy yourself. There will be little time for relaxing once we get started,” she said. Evelyn then looked him over, eyebrows raised. “You look very nice. Did Josephine find you those clothes?”

Cullen reached up to rub the back of his neck, trying not to look sheepish. “Um, no, actually. These are my own.”

“Oh?”

The single word didn’t sound accusing but he felt himself flush just the same. “Yes. I thought it might be better if I didn’t look so ... disreputable.”

Evelyn gave him a measuring look as if she was putting the pieces of a puzzle together and Cullen wondered just how she managed to use a single glance to convey so much. “So the tattered clothes, the alcohol ..?”

This time he laughed a little, though it came out a bit self-conscious. “An act, I’m afraid. More for my Templar brethren in case they came to try and convince me to return.”

“Really? Have they stopped by often?”

“A few times,” Cullen confirmed.

“And after seeing you in your condition, they don’t try to help you? You were, after all, one of them.”

“That is not who I am anymore,” he said, more firmly than he intended.

She stared at him for another heartbeat before finally shrugging. “Well, you didn’t seem to act like the typical drunkard but your deception worked on me. I was keeping an eye out on your tankard the entire evening thus far.”

Cullen looked at her and noted the amusement crinkling her eyes. “You’re not angry?”

“Angry? No. Convinced that you could have been a thespian if you wanted to? Possibly.”

He found himself sharing a smile with her and relaxed enough to finish his meal and even have some wine. But as the evening wore on and no one showed any signs of abandoning the party in favor of their bed, Cullen felt the faintest pulsing at the base of his head. He was tired from the journey and sheer number of people in the same room, but sleep would still be elusive. Deciding some air was in order, Cullen waited until everyone seemed occupied before standing up to slip out the nearest door. Wandering up the stairs, he passed an opulently appointed sitting room to his left, and went through another door. 

He finally found himself out on a narrow balcony that ran around one of the towers. Cullen sighed in relief as he inhaled the cool night air and breathed out some of the stress of making nice with people he didn’t know. The hour was late enough that it was peaceful and quiet and exactly what he needed after the clamor of the main hall. Torches lit all over the fortress provided pools of light that flickered in the playful wind, but no one was out except a few guards. He made a mental note to get the names of those on duty and give them personal commendation for serving when everyone else was having fun.

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?”

Cullen almost jumped as he turned to face the newcomer who had followed him, relaxing when he realized the identity of his unexpected companion. “It is,” he agreed.

Varric stepped to his side but instead of looking out at the view, leaned against the balcony side and crossed his feet, looking up at him. “Thought I’d say hello now since we didn’t have a chance to talk earlier. Especially with those ladies simpering about you.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cullen said fervently and Varric laughed. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Varric.”

“Why? Because I have a reputation of not caring and running away from anything serious?”

Cullen frowned and looked at the dwarf, hearing something in his tone. “No, of course not. I just never thought I’d see you leave Kirkwall.”

Varric sighed and some of his defensive posture deflated. “Yeah, well, the Seeker didn’t give me much of a choice.” He paused, then added, “And I mean that literally.”

Cullen chuckled, remembering the all-too serious Cassandra who spoke to him in Kirkwall. She had been earnest and single-minded in her mission which he appreciated because he was like that more than not. Perhaps he was a little _too_ focused, considering the disaster at Kirkwall and his inability to see how unstable Meredith had become ...

“You look like you swallowed some deathroot, Curly. You all right?”

Varric’s voice broke through the haze of memories and Cullen glanced down at the dwarf with a small groan. “Please don’t use that nickname in front of anyone else, will you?”

“Why are you so embarrassed? People are allowed to change their hair style whenever they want. Of course, they probably don’t put on as much wax as you do, but hey, who am I to judge?”

Cullen sent him a mild glare but resigned himself to the fact that he would now be known as ‘Curly’, at least to the Inquisition’s companions. He looked out at the fortress again, watching the sentry pace back and forth on the battlements in slow, lethargic steps. “Tell me, Varric, is the situation out there as bad as the Inquisitor says it is?”

“Probably. She tends to be a little self-deprecating, but yeah, it’s bad. It’s worse since so many soldiers left with Samson. We’ve been embarrassed, nobles are starting to break off alliances, and Corypheus is still out there, wreaking havoc.” Varric let out a long, deep breath. “I don’t want to discourage you since it’s your first night here and all, but you’ve got a lot to do before we can finally go back to doing some good.”

It was odd to hear Varric so serious, which meant things were truly bad. “Well, I’ll try not to let you down.” 

“I’m counting on it. We could use some good news around here.”

Cullen nodded. Despite the festive atmosphere during dinner, he sensed an undercurrent of tension from some of the people in the room, most notably from Josephine and the Inquisitor. They hid it well behind cordial masks that might fool some, but Cullen had spent the better part of three years in Kirkwall watching people closely to head off any trouble. And before that, he had dedicated years overseeing mages in Ferelden, searching for any signs they would succumb to the temptations demons offered. “Let me ask you something else. What did you think of Samson?”

At the name, Varric’s face darkened into a look that might have made lesser man’s back away. “We don’t like to talk about him,” he said.

That spoke volumes to Cullen because he didn’t remember the last time Varric disliked someone that much. “Who is this ‘we’?”

“We. Us. The Inquisitor, her companions, the soldiers, the workers, the horses -”

“The horses?” Cullen interrupted, uncertain if he heard correctly.

Varric shot him a reproachful look. “Yes, the horses. They _really_ didn't like him. Where was I? Oh, right. The servants, members of the Chantry, some of the visiting nobles he ridiculed which nearly made Ruffles keel over in apoplexy, and most especially the Seeker and Nightingale. Actually, I’m surprised Nightingale hasn’t sent a nice, bloody message to him already. Or maybe she has, but I haven’t heard anything about it yet.”

Cullen raised his hands up in surrender. “Point taken. There is no love left for him here. How much damage do you think he’s done?”

That made the dwarf think for a minute before answering. “Nothing that can’t be undone without some hard work to rebuild the trust and lost influence,” he said at last. “But I think you also need to win some military victories. Fast, before whatever remains of our reputation sinks lower than the Deep Roads.”

As usual, Varric’s advice was something worth considering. Cullen thought about it, shivering as a particularly chilly breeze blew past them. He decided then it was better to get back to the party, make his excuses, and settle in his guest quarters because tomorrow was going to be a very long day. Varric followed him inside and, as soon as he shut the door from the balcony, asked him the question Cullen was waiting for him to ask.

“So, why are you here?”

He looked at Varric and gave him a faint smile. “To save the world, of course. Isn’t that why we’re all here?”

“And because the Inquisitor is more appealing than Cassandra?”

“And because the Inquisitor told me I was running away when I could do some good. She sounded ... desperate. No, not desperate.” Cullen paused, trying to find the right word.

Varric nodded as if he understood. “She read you like a book and played you like a lute. Gotcha.” He started to head for the stairs that would lead back down to the grand hall, leaving Cullen sputtering in confusion behind him. “Don’t worry, Curly, I won’t tell anyone. Yet.” The dwarf left, chuckling to himself.

Cullen stood there alone, perplexed by Varric’s words. Did the Inquisitor indeed “play” him to get him here? She had seemed so frustrated in Honnleath, but he had seen firsthand how easily she put on the mantle of the confident Inquisitor. Which persona was the actual Evelyn Trevelyan? That was something to consider in the long night ahead.


	7. To Work

It felt odd to be wearing his formal armor again after months of walking around in regular clothing, but Cullen also found a measure of comfort wearing the heavy mail. After clasping on the heavy legs and vambraces and pulling on the furred dress coat over the chest plate, he finally girded on his sword. Something inside - his heart or his head, he wasn’t quite sure - clicked in relief when he felt the weight of the familiar weapon at his hip. The past few months when he lived in Honnleath, Cullen had only picked up his sword to practice in case he was ever called to defend the town, and he only trained for the bare minimum of time. He hadn’t realized how much he missed being active and useful until now.

He had been given a guest room off the main hall but after the war council, Cullen intended on exploring Skyhold until he found the perfect place for his office. It would have to be close enough to his soldiers so he would be accessible, but also close enough to make it to war room, which appeared central to Inquisition operations. He had gotten directions to said room earlier and made his way there now.

Everyone had already assembled, pouring over something at the table when he pushed the door open. Cullen stopped, surprised as all four gazes swung up to meet him. “Er, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was late.”

“You aren’t, Commander. The Inquisitor was just a little bit anxious to get started and dragged us all over here early.”

Evelyn’s cheeks flamed up. “Cassandra!”

The Seeker gave her an amused look, surprising Cullen with the warm expression. He didn’t know the woman very well but he would have bet such looks didn’t make frequent appearances with his fellow warrior. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to make a good impression on our new commander, Inquisitor.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell him that,” Evelyn mumbled, staring down at the map.

But it didn't end there. Cullen watched, bemused, as the other two women joined in on teasing the Inquisitor. "She was so eager to get here first that she nearly toppled me over the railing from the third floor of my rookery," Leliana said, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"Not to mention Her Worship practically dragged me from my room in her haste. I hardly had time to pull my hair back in a serviceable knot!" Josephine chimed in, patting her perfect coif with every strand artfully framed around her smooth skin.

"Stop it!" Evelyn hissed, her face turning a darker shade of red.

Cullen chuckled along with everyone else and shut the door behind him. The easy camaraderie between the four women eased any of the first-day-on-the-job nerves he had. “Well, Inquisitor, I'm here so we can get started whenever you wish." He was eager to begin his first war council, but he also planned to evaluate the men during their morning training session and see how they were doing.

His words shifted the atmosphere into a more serious one. As Cullen looked down at the large map of southern Thedas, he studied the markers and ascertained which ones were their troop movements as well as enemy positions. It didn't look quite as bad as he expected and he noted that the Inquisition had secured two strategic strongholds, one in Ferelden and the other in Orlais.

“As you can see, most of the ground we managed to gain in the beginning has been overrun by the Venatori and Red Templars,” Evelyn said, pointing to the various areas across Orlais and Ferelden. “The only place we’ve been able to hold definitively is the Hinterlands, and only because I spent weeks there routing rifts and rebel templars and mages.”

Cullen nodded slowly, trying not to wince at the note of deep self-loathing Evelyn's voice as she recounted their losses. He shifted his gaze over to the Western Approach. “Tell me more about Adamant Fortress,” he said.

The mention of the place caused everyone to stiffen up. No one spoke for a moment until Cassandra said, “Why do you ask, Commander?”

He met each one of their gazes steadily. Cullen had spent half the night thinking about what his first official campaign would be and, after considering their current reputation and number of available regiments, decided this was the best option for them. “Because we’re going to attack it again and win it for us.”

“We don’t have enough soldiers to do that,” Leliana said. While there was a note of protest in her voice, she gave him a speculative look.

Cullen returned her look with a direct one of their own. “I reviewed the status of our troops last night as well as whatever reports Samson deigned to write about the attack and I think we can make it work. But instead counting on a full frontal assault, the soldiers will engage the enemy while we rely on the Inquisitor and a small party to infiltrate and stop Erimond for good.”

“That is exactly the tactic I suggested but Samson said it wouldn’t work,” Evelyn said, her eyes flashing. Her fist pounded on the table, jerking some of the markers from their original positions. “He said only troop movement would stop Corypheus and he ended up getting so many people slaughtered for nothing. He _assured_ me he was right, that I should trust him and ... that sonuva ...” She stopped and looked away, breathing in deeply for several long minutes until she composed herself and looked back at Cullen. “Are you certain this will work?”

He nodded, making sure to keep his voice firm and confident. “We - the army - can ram the gate and distract the enemy while you and your companions slip inside. We’ll hold them off as long as we can and trust you’ll get to Erimond and stop the Grey Wardens from throwing everything away.”

“But why Adamant, Commander?” Cassandra asked. “By now, the ritual is complete and rest of the Wardens would have perished or are controlled by Corypheus. Isn’t this a waste of lives and resources?”

Cullen acknowledged Cassandra's concern with a nod. “A fair question. I understand what you mean, Seeker, but there’s two reasons for this. One, we don’t know that all the Grey Wardens have died or given themselves willingly to Corypheus. There may be a few Wardens holed up somewhere, hoping for rescue. And even if all of them did turn, it is our duty to stop them before Corypheus can take control of his demon army.” He looked at Evelyn. “I understand there is a rift at Adamant. You can use your mark to close it and prevent anymore abominations from coming out. It will help our soldiers with the fight and ensure the Grey Warden mages can’t do more damage than they already have.”

Evelyn nodded. “Of course. Get me in there and I’ll make sure it’s done.”

“What is your second reason, Commander?” Leliana asked. Despite the calculating gaze, a glimmer of approval told him the spymaster knew exactly where he was going with this.

Cullen was confident his tactics were right but it was encouraging to know Leliana agreed with his reasoning. “The second reason is that we need to revisit what appears to be the ultimate failure of the Inquisition. We told our allies and the people of Thedas we exist to protect them. We made it clear that Corypheus must be stopped, and we would do so starting at Adamant. It may have not worked the first time, but Maker help us, it will work the second time.”

“I see,” Josephine said slowly. “It is to show the world that one setback won’t keep us from trying again, and to prove to our allies that we are still a formidable force. And perhaps a victory here will make those who broke ties with us regret that fact later on.”

“Well, I didn’t see that part of it, but yes, taking Adamant will also have that affect,” Cullen agreed.

“It seems like a sound plan,” Cassandra said. Everyone then looked at Evelyn for her decision. “Inquisitor?”

Evelyn stared down at the fortress marker for a long time. Cullen waited, knowing her response would set the rest of the tone of their professional relationship. Either she trusted him to know what he was doing, or she would shy away from his advice and never use the Inquisition forces to the fullest. Cullen wouldn’t blame her if it was the latter, but he had agreed to this position and he was determined to give it his all.

At last, Evelyn lifted her head up and met his eyes. There was quite a bit of fear lurking within her gaze but determination set her jaw and her fists were clenched so hard Cullen imagined nails digging into her palms. “Let’s do it, Commander. As soon as you feel the soldiers are ready.”

Something inside him breathed a sigh of relief. He was grateful for the tentative trust Evelyn placed in him, but he was also acutely aware there was no room for failure. If they could not take Adamant Fortress this time around, the Inquisition could very well end before it accomplished its goals. And it would be all his fault.

Shaking away the snippet of doubt, Cullen nodded, trying to project confidence. “I will personally assess our troops today and meet with all the senior officers to get their opinions on the condition of the soldiers. You’ll have a report and my recommendation by tonight.”

“In preparation for our attack, I’ll send out more scouts around Adamant to see if anything has changed since last time,” Leliana said.

“Some of the nobles who are indebted to the Inquisition may be able to spare some reinforcements to help with the assault,” Josephine said, making a note in her scribes book. “I will write to them at once and see if they will meet us at Adamant.”

“Excellent,” Evelyn said. “Cassandra, please make sure our companions are ready. I haven’t decided yet who I’m going to take with me, but I want everyone in top form just in case.”

The Seeker nodded. “It will be done.”

Evelyn nodded too and looked at Cullen. “To work, then.”


	8. Chapter 8

Cassandra accompanied Cullen part way to the training field, pacing beside him silently and correcting his direction when he took the wrong turn somewhere. He wondered if there was something on her mind and was about to ask when she finally spoke.

“While it is foolish to wish we could change the past, I cannot help but wonder how things would be if you had taken the position in the first place, Commander.”

Cullen winced even though he didn’t hear any censure in the Seeker’s voice. “I thought my reasons were good enough to turn your original offer down.”

“Yes, you had good reasons. And it is hard to stand against something you’ve committed to from a young age. I admire your resolve, as I expressed to you before. I do not doubt your sincerity, Cullen, yet I do wonder why you chose to join us now.”

“The Inquisitor,” he said simply.

At that, Cassandra’s lips stretched into a faint, resigned smile. “She can be rather persuasive when she wants to be, no?”

That was an understatement if he ever heard one. Cullen shared his own wry look with the Seeker. “She has this knack of heaping guilt onto complacent people. According to Varric, she played on that guilt and accused me of doing nothing when I could help the greater good.” That conversation had stung him, stung his pride really, because Cullen considered himself to be an honorable man who would do the right thing, no matter how difficult. But looking back now, he knew the Inquisitor was right. He had been hiding behind the excuse of pain. The struggle was real, of course, and at times so debilitating he wondered if he would ever make it through the night. But if Cullen was honest with himself, that wasn't the actual reason he had declined Cassandra's proposition. He was just so tired of chaos erupting everywhere he went.

 _The worst luck in all of Thedas_ some had whispered about him when they learned what he had been through the past ten years. Sometimes Cullen believed they were right. At least the mess with Corypheus didn't begin on his watch.

"Well, I am glad the Herald convinced you to join our cause. As you just saw, there is still much work to be done," Cassandra said.

Cullen said with all honesty, "I am glad, too." He then hesitated, debating whether or not to talk about something that had been bothering him ever since he had met Evelyn.

“Go on,” Cassandra said, as if reading his mind.

He nodded his thanks and chose his next words with care. “The Herald inspires hope. She was very direct about what has happened so far, and she feels deeply about her role. I admire that, but I wonder if the pressure is too much for one person. She was, of course, upset about the loss of lives and taking backward steps from success, but it wasn’t just an emotion. She grieves, as if each life lost was her own fault.” Cullen shook his head a little. “If she continues to invest so much of herself in this, I fear she may not last much longer.”

Cassandra stopped and turned to look at him. “Are you saying the Inquisitor is unfit to lead?”

“No, no, not at all.” Cullen, too, stopped and rubbed the back of his neck in an absent gesture. “I meant that all of us - her advisors and companions - need to step in and help relieve the pressure somewhat. She is a remarkable woman, but she is still needs support and encouragement and the occasional reminder that she cannot do it all. If we don't, she may not last long enough for the final confrontation. We would end up losing our leader and the only one who can stop Corypheus.”

The Seeker raised her brows. “You know her so well already?”

At that, Cullen snorted. “I know, because I’ve seen it in myself.”

“At Kirkwall,” Cassandra said with a nod. She gave him a thoughtful look. “You raise a valid point, Commander. I will share it with the others.” Then, in a move that surprised him, she put a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever your reasons, I am glad that you’re here with us now, Cullen. I prayed for this to be so and it comforts me that the Maker hasn’t abandoned us yet.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cullen said, touched by the admission.

She nodded again and then gestured behind him with a tilt of her head. “There are your men, Commander. Make us proud.”

Cullen turned and saw the soldiers standing in formation, waiting for him. In front of them was Knight-Captain Rylen who, when he saw Cullen’s gaze was on them, shouted, “Inquisition, attention! Salute your new Commander!” As one, the rows shifted, right arm to the chest with their heads slightly bowed.

A bubble of amazement worked its way up his chest and Cullen felt that earlier satisfaction click inside him again, and this time it was definitely in the region of his heart. He saw Cassandra smiling faintly at him, most likely at the way his eyes lit up with stupid pride as he surveyed the men and women arrayed before him. But Cullen didn’t care. The realization that they were his soldiers and they would follow him hit him as hard as an angry bronto charge. The rightness of the situation sang in him just like it did when he recited the Chant of Light, and he was determined more than ever to do his best.

*****

The sun was winging its way ever upward when Cullen finally left the training yard in search for the perfect office. After exploring most of the keep, he finally claimed what Josephine said was the draftiest tower in Skyhold. He was inclined to believe her, what with the large hole in the roof. But he was accessible to his soldiers and messengers in three different directions and still close enough to the war room that the brisk walk would be a welcome reprieve. Because, as Cullen realized with no small amount of horror, the sheer amount of paperwork that came with the position was staggering. 

Accompanying him halfway through his search, Josephine argued with him about the finding a more appropriate work area. She suggested Samson’s old room for his own, but Cullen refused with polite firmness. He wanted no association with the former commander, and the tower suited his needs perfectly. It even had a loft that he could turn into his bedroom for the rare moments when he would sleep. The effort to carry an actual bed up the ladder would make the Inquisition workers grumble, but he didn’t care. The room felt like his and he liked it, hole and all.

Josephine finally conceded gracious defeat when he refused to change his mind. She made a note to have the hole in his roof fixed and the debris swept out. She already had the workers bring in a spare desk and several bookshelves for him and Cullen was grateful for her efficiency.

But apparently she wasn’t done yet. Consulting her ever-present scribes board which Cullen likened as the ambassador’s weapon, Josephine looked at him with a charming cat-like smile which instantly put him on guard. “Now that you’ve settled in somewhat, Commander, I’d like to talk to you about publicizing your arrival here.”

“Publicizing my arrival?” he repeated, not understanding what she meant.

“Certainly. As you may have heard, the Inquisition doesn’t have the best reputation at the moment. With you stepping in as the new Commander, this is an opportunity for our allies and potential partners to realize we are not adverse to changing or cutting off parts that do not work. It is like pruning a bush, for example.”

Cullen had no experience with bushes or pruning so all he could say was, “Is that so?”

Josephine nodded firmly. “Yes, exactly so. We must take advantage of your presence here and I intend to restore a portion of our good name through it.”

Now was the time to be extremely wary. Josephine might not be a battle-hardened warrior but she had determination of steel and the cunning of an assassin she concealed through a ready smile. “What is your plan?”

“An official ball. A coronation of sorts.”

“No,” Cullen said promptly. That was the worst idea he ever heard, right up there with trying to reason with darkspawn not to attack. Then he added, “And in the military, we don’t do ... coronations. They’re promotions, and that doesn’t exactly apply to me.”

“A celebration of your new position, then,” Josephine said without batting an eyelash. “We would invite all of our allies to come meet with you at Skyhold. You and the Inquisitor can give a joint presentation on the future of the Inquisition, and a small company of soldiers can put on a drill display. That must be practiced until it is perfected, of course. All of your senior officers should also attend the ball to speak with our allies and assure them that the Inquisition army is ready for anything. It will only be a week-long affair, possibly extended to ten days, if necessary.”

Cullen stared at the ambassador for a long minute who returned his look with a challenge of her own. It was to be a battle of wits, then. “No joint presentation - our allies surely don’t want to see troop movement in their own lands and the Inquisitor would be too busy to prepare for one anyway - and no drill display. In return, I’ll give a show of calibrating trebuchets and launching a few stones in the distance. One of my cavalry officers will lead a tour of the stables and allow the nobles to watch some training with the horses. And I'll have _two_ of my senior officers attend a ball for one night, that’s all I can spare.” He hoped those who drew the short straw would forgive him.

Josephine made a pleased noise and wrote something on her board. “And you’ll dance with at least ten women at the party, of course.”

“I don’t dance.” When Josephine raised her eyebrows at his reticence, Cullen sighed. “I’ll talk about hunting and argue about the greatest battles in Ferelden history and keep the guests happy.” Then, suppressing a shudder as he thought of last night and the not-so-subtle advances, he added, “As long as you keep those noble women away from me.”

“Done!” The ambassador smiled brightly at him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it, Commander? I have a feeling you and I will get along quite well. I will consider when would be the best time to hold this gala and inform you of the date in advance.” And with that, she sailed out of his office, leaving him with the feeling that his concessions weren’t concessions after all, but exactly what Josephine wanted from him in the first place.

Shaking off the feeling of being taken advantage of, Cullen decided there was nothing else left to do but begin his work.

His first act was to call a meeting with his senior officers at noon. While his messenger went out to spread the news, Cullen sat down to go over the roster of soldiers, both active and on the injured list. His initial impression of the morning training session was lukewarm because it wasn’t suited to the troops’ level of skill. Making notations on what to change, he began writing down his observations and recommendations.

Cullen then reviewed the list of regiments scattered all over Orlais and Ferelden, the supplies status and requisition requests, and reports from the senior officer in charge of the camps. “Inefficient, a waste of resources, stretched too thin” was the presiding conclusion he arrived at, making him wonder exactly what Samson was doing, if not actually doing his job.

Varric was right. He had a lot to do to make things better again, but he relished the challenge. There was nothing Cullen liked better than turning chaos into order.


	9. Chapter 9

An idea occurred to Cullen as he strode towards the training field to meet with all the officers for their first proper meeting. He weighed the positives and negatives of pursuing that line of thought because it could turn out to be a sensitive matter for much of the Inquisition. He also needed more information before making a decision.

Filing the notion away for later consideration, Cullen arrived at the meeting place just before the appointed time. He was only mildly surprised to find the officers already assembled, staring at him with equal parts wariness and hope. Seeing that cautious optimism in their eyes reminded him of the Templars back in Kirkwall, those who stayed on to combat the resulting chaos of the mage rebellion. It was a look Cullen disliked seeing in soldiers because it meant something had gone terribly wrong, but at least it appeared they hadn't given up yet. He made a silent vow to make that particular look disappear from their faces as soon as possible.

Samson had apparently enticed the more experienced officers to leave with him, leaving behind huge gaps in the chain of command. Cullen wasted no time in getting Rylen’s recommendations to promote capable people to replace the ones who had left, but he was under no illusion all of them were ready to immediately lead their own regiments. Still, it was better than having raw recruits who had never held a sword before. All they needed was discipline and purpose and encouragement and he was confident they would excel in their new role.

With Rylen as his official second-in-command next to him, Cullen spoke to the officers about keeping the soldiers under their command in constant readiness with drills and the occasional overnight training missions for team building. They were all expected to pitch in with extra hours and extra training, whatever it took to get each soldier prepared for upcoming battles, especially Adamant which was time sensitive. “I understand some of you were just promoted, but the Inquisition needs you to be ready more than ever. At tonight's evening bell, I will personally conduct an inspection of every available soldier to make sure all the equipment was ready and befitting the Inquisition. Assemble each regiment here in order.” However Samson had run the army before, things would now be done his way and Cullen wanted to make sure the officers knew it. “Are there any other questions?” he asked.

The officers glanced at each other, expressions grave, until one stepped forward, one fist to his chest in salute. “Ser, I’m Lieutenant Hallen. We just want you to know that we’re glad you’re here. That right bastard Samson messed us up, and we have a lot of making up to do. The Seeker says you're our best hope to fix things among the soldiers, and we're here to support you. We believe in the Inquisitor and we won’t let you or Her Worship down.”

Cullen studied them all as quite a few murmurs of agreement rose up within the ranks. Such loyalty was hard to find these days. Either the Inquisitor had bewitched every single person in Skyhold or she had earned their respect the hard way. From what he knew about her thus far, he suspected it was the latter. “And I am honored to serve with men and women here who remain steadfast in the Inquisition's cause despite the dark times. But do not fear, there _will_ be an end to the chaos because the Maker has chosen us to be his agents of peace. Let us remember that we serve not just any one person, but we are working for the good of all Thedas.”

At that, the officers cheered and raised their arms in triumph. Next to Cullen, even Rylen added his voice to the cacophony. The feeling of relief and renewed energy was palpable.

After he dismissed them, Cullen motioned Rylen aside to speak to him privately. He suspected the captain had resisted his friends’ efforts to get him to leave with them and the man’s loyalty to the Inquisition spoke volumes about his character. “I want to ask you some questions about the former commander. What did Samson say to try and convince you to leave?”

Rylen frowned as he thought back. “He merely said the Inquisition was not what it actually claimed to be, and that we would be doing the world a favor by walking out together, as one voice saying we won't be puppets used by a false Herald.” Then the faintest blush appeared on his cheeks. “He, um, also said several ... inelegant things about the Inquisitor.”

Anger tightened Cullen’s jaw at the idea of Samson defaming Evelyn when she had done nothing wrong. “I see. You weren’t affected by his words?”

“No, Commander. I think the Inquisition is actually doing a good job of trying to help, and with you at the helm of the army, we’ll only get better. Besides, I rather like the Inquisitor.” Then the faint blush turned into a deeper shade of crimson. “I-I mean not like like her, in that way, but in the admiring sort of way.”

Despite his anger at Samson, Cullen managed a chuckle at Rylen's embarrassment. “I understand, Captain. The Inquisitor _is_ someone to be admired for all that she's done so far.” He thought for a moment before deciding to go ahead with his earlier idea. He asked, “Do you have friends who left with Samson?”

The question surprised Rylen, but he nodded. “Yes, Commander, several good ones, in fact.”

“Good. Let’s see how things are going with them, shall we?”

*****

Cullen had skipped breakfast because of first day on the job nerves and, for lunch, managed to wolf down a few bites of a meat pastry in between meetings. He didn’t even think about how late in the day it was until there was a knock on the door. The four most senior officers with him lifted their heads in curiosity and looked in the direction of the sound. It took Cullen a few seconds to realize the person was waiting for a response. “Enter!” he called.

“I would, but I have my hands full,” came the apologetic voice. “Could I get some help?”

Maker’s breath, it was the Inquisitor! Cullen’s brow furrowed and he went around his desk to open the door. He blinked at the burst of late afternoon sunlight in his eyes as much as the sight of her holding a tray of food.

“You never showed up for the midday meal and I was afraid you were going to miss dinner, so I thought I’d bring a little something over now in case you were busy later.” Evelyn’s voice seemed uncharacteristically shy and she craned her neck to see past him. “And I see my timing is a little off.”

“I - uh, thank you, Inquisitor. Here, let me,” Cullen said, attempting to take the tray from her hands.

But she refused with a slight tug. “Just make some room for me at your desk, Commander. My inferior strength can certainly handle holding a soup bowl and bread for another minute.”

Uncertain as to whether she was offended by his gesture or not, Cullen decided it was best to follow her suggestion. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in front of his soldiers. He turned to the waiting officers, one of whom was gaping in a dead fish sort of way, and cleared his throat. “We’ll continue this meeting in an hour. Have the personnel reports finished and be ready with the equipment requisition forms by then.”

“Sir!” they said with a salute and Rylen led the way out, kicking the gaping officer none too gently when he didn’t move right away.

Evelyn stepped inside as the four soldiers filed out and Cullen hurried to desk to clear it of papers that he stacked on his empty bookshelf in careful order. She shut the door with her foot and moved to set the tray down. “It’s still hot so you had better eat it now.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor. This was ... this is very thoughtful of you,” Cullen said, still trying to gauge her mood. He found himself disliking this mask Evelyn had put on ever since they arrived in Skyhold and wondered where the frank, brutally honest woman he had met went. Trying to shrug off his disappointment, he sat down in his chair and broke off a piece of bread to dip into the soup. As she had promised, it was still piping hot and at the first touch of the expertly seasoned broth on his tongue, he realized he was ravenous.

“You struck me as the kind of man who gets lost in his work and won’t realize he hasn’t eaten all day until it’s too late,” she said, gazing around his office. Whatever she was looking for, it seemed to meet with her approval because she nodded to herself and looked back at him.

Cullen swallowed the bite in his mouth and gave a rueful smile. “Sometimes, I suppose. As you warned me yesterday, there is much for me to do.”

She made a noise of agreement and he realized she was now studying him. “You look nice in your armor. Very official-like. Even Josephine approved of it as befitting your station, and she rarely says anything like that.” Evelyn laughed a little. “Well, to me anyway.”

“I beg to differ. You always look presentable,” Cullen said.

“Well, thank you. Vivienne - have you met Lady Vivienne yet? - says she’ll take me to Val Royeaux and meet with her personal tailors so I can be more than just presentable. It’s not a trip I’m dying to make but I suppose I should look the part of a consequential leader.”

“I don’t envy you of the shopping trip,” Cullen said, and meant it. He finished the rest of the soup in just a few more gulps and, as silence fell between them, wondered exactly why Evelyn was here. She wandered around the room, opening each of the three doors and murmuring about the squeaky hinges or the dirt and debris that hadn’t been cleared out from the corners yet, but he thought she was stalling rather than actually care about a few dust mites. “Inquisitor?”

“Hmm? Josie said you chose this tower on purpose? I understand your need to distance yourself from Samson but it’s a little ... chilly here. Perhaps you’ll be better off with an office in the main building.”

“Thank you, but I like it here,” he said firmly. He waited but when she said nothing else, he prompted, “Inquisitor, is there something else you needed?”

“No. Yes.” She took a deep breath and leaned her head against the wall, her back facing him. “I’m a little worried. I trust you, I already know you’re nothing like Samson because you were so prepared during the war council. But ...”

Cullen nodded even though she couldn’t see him from her unusual position. “You are afraid to ask your people to return to a place where there are bad memories and terrible losses. I understand.”

Evelyn lifted her head up and turned to stare at him for several long heartbeats. “You actually do, don’t you?” she murmured.

“I am going to rotate the regiments and ensure anyone who has a relative or loved one lost there does not have to go back. But Captain Rylen assures me there are an equal number of volunteers who want to go because they are determined that their fallen comrades will have not died in vain.” Cullen attempted to give her an encouraging smile. “They are soldiers, Inquisitor, and every single one of them whom I’ve talked to so far will follow you because they believe in what we’re doing. They know we are making a difference.”

She stared at him for a long while as if searching for any signs of uncertainty. Then Evelyn offered him a faint smile. “You know your men so well already, Commander?”

Cullen shrugged. “Soldiers are easy, Your Worship. Give them a purpose they believe in, the proper equipment, train them well, and for the most part they’ll be happy.” He paused for a moment, choosing his next words with care. “I should let you know they feel as though following Samson somehow made them look bad in your eyes. They are eager to regain your trust.”

Evelyn looked surprised and she took a step forward. “What? I don’t blame them. If anything, they should fault me for letting Samson stay and lead for as long as he did.”

“I didn’t tell you this so we can lay blame on one another,” Cullen said firmly. “I lay it squarely on Samson’s shoulders. But think of this as an opportunity to reaffirm the purpose of the Inquisition and rededicate ourselves to the cause. Lady Josephine mentioned trying to raise morale. What better way than to claim victory - together - in the very place of our last defeat?”

“That makes sense.” Evelyn gave him a thoughtful look. “So, what you’re telling me is to stop worrying, trust in our soldiers, and move forward.”

He chuckled, relieved she understood what he was trying to say. “I suppose that is what I mean, yes. We mourn those whom we lost, but we keep pressing onward. For their sake as well as ours.”

“All right, Commander. I’ll wait for your report, then.” She turned to walk out the door before glancing over her shoulder. “And do try to make it to the evening meal. I can’t keep bringing you soup, especially when I’m not in Skyhold very much.”

Cullen gave her a somewhat sheepish look. “I’ll try, Your Worship.”

Evelyn opened her mouth as if to speak but then thought better of it. Instead, she simply nodded and headed out the door.

He watched her leave, feeling the conversation had shifted their relationship into cementing further trust between them. Evelyn had said she didn’t doubt his skills, but Cullen knew firsthand how devastating it was to have someone completely betray that faith. He shook his head slightly to ward off his mind from inevitably drifting to Meredith and the Kirkwall disaster. He had no time to dwell in the past. The Inquisitor had given him a chance to prove his worth and Cullen was determined not to fail his soldiers - or her.


	10. Chapter 10

As Cullen had promised, several hours after dinner, Evelyn received a thorough report on the current condition of the army. The report had to be at least twenty pages because it included the actual numbers of soldiers in each regiment, the names of their commanding officers, and his current assessment of them. She sifted through it sheet by sheet, skimming the pages until she came to his recommendation for changes, promotions to fill in the gaps of those who had left, and finally, his detailed plan on the assault of Adamant Fortress.

She read the latter portion carefully, nodding to herself in approval and wishing she had some ink to mark any questions or suggestions she might have. Just as she was about to get up and go to her room, someone thrust a quill in front of her face.

“Here. You look like you’re trying to remember everything in that sheet you’re boring a hole into.”

Evelyn took the quill, not bothering to ask where he got it from, and smiled up at Dorian. “Thanks.”

Iron Bull plunked down a small ink pot to her right and took a seat across from her. “You look like you’re concentrating real hard, Boss. Is the book-sized report that fun to read?”

She dipped the quill into the pot and quickly scratched out a few notes to bring up at tomorrow’s war council. “Not fun, but very informative. Cullen is basically recommending what I suggested to Samson about attacking Adamant.” Just the thought of her former commander dismissing her thoughts as ‘naive’ and ‘impractical’ made her grip the quill a little tighter than necessary.

Dorian dragged over another chair and sat down between them, raising his eyebrows at her white knuckles. “Oh, that Samson fellow. Now there’s someone I’d like to meet again - across the battlefield.”

“Get in line, Sparkler. Right now, the number of people wanting some personal time with him is longer than a Chantry mother's memory,” Varric said, joining them at their table. He plunked down a tankard at the table, watching Evelyn study the paper with a ferocious frown on her face. “Are you allowed to bring work into the tavern?”

She shrugged. “The messenger found me here. Should I leave?”

“Nah, Boss. Actually, I’m kind of curious to see what our new Commander has to say about the soldiers.” Iron Bull winked at somebody across the room before shifting that eye at her. “I watched him with the troops for a while today. He’s good with them. But then again, so was that arsenugget and looked how that turned out.”

Evelyn shoved the first few sheets of the report over to him. “Read it for yourself. And Maker’s breath, you have got to stop hanging around Sera so much if you’re starting to pick up her colloquialisms!”

The Qunari laughed and picked up the papers to read. Varric nudged him until he could see the report as well and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Well, there goes the ambiance,” Dorian said at last with good-natured disgust. “We get one uptight ex-Templar as the new Commander and then suddenly everyone’s working overtime and eager to read his reports. It makes a man want to retreat to his room and drink by himself.”

Iron Bull glanced up with a decided leer on his face. “You know, if you’re looking for company, all you have to do is ask.”

Dorian huffed. “As if! I find silence and a good book to be better company.” He stood up. “So on that note, I'll leave you overachievers here to read that dreadfully long communique. Good night.” He patted Evelyn on the shoulder before departing.

As the mage walked away, Evelyn said without looking up, “Stop looking at his butt.”

“I can’t help it if he sways his hips for me to stare at,” Bull said in protest. He passed all the papers to Varric and leaned back in his chair to fold his arms behind his head. “Good stuff. Neat handwriting, too. Makes it easier to read so you know what the hell is going on. So this Cullen guy looks like the real deal, huh, Boss?”

Evelyn finished making her notations and sat back with a relieved sigh. Cullen's plan was logical and sensible and she could find no fault with it. “Seems like it.”

“After the mage rebellion, the only sure thing you could rely on in Kirkwall is two things: Meredith frozen in a big red lyrium statue and Knight-Captain Cullen trying to keep order without causing further panic.” Varric slid the papers back to Evelyn who gathered it up in a neat pile. “He did a good job of it, too. It could have been worse. Much worse.”

“So he’s got your vote of confidence,” Bull said. “I know Viv - I mean Madame de Fer - approves of him just because he used to be a Templar.”

“And I’m sure Hero is all atwitter about having another hero type join our crew,” the dwarf said.

The Qunari chortled. “Sera’s already trying to figure out how to prank-welcome him. Said he looks likes he needs taking down a peg or two.”

Evelyn raised her brows at them. “Are we going all to take a vote on how we feel about Commander Cullen, then?”

Varric and Bull exchanged glances which put Evelyn on sudden alert. If the two men were collaborating on something, it did not bode well for her. “Well, actually, Boss, we’re curious to see how _you_ feel about him.”

She groaned at how neatly she fell into their trap. For months now, they had been pestering her to share her feelings or wanting to know if she was going to go after her former commander because he called her several ugly - and surprisingly hurtful - names. “If this is another counseling session on how I need to forgive and forget about Samson and move on, I’m going to need something to drink.” And she raised a hand to get a server’s attention.

“We’re just worried that you’re going to heap expectations of hero proportions on him,” a new voice behind her said.

Evelyn let her head thud on the table in frustration at yet another meddling companion joining in the conversation. She winced at the burst of pain from the contact but refused to move from that position so she wouldn't see three pairs of eyes giving her concerned looks. Varric said, “Have a seat, Hero. You’re just in time to see our fearless leader enjoy some unsolicited but very good advice.”

From the scrape of the chair, Evelyn guessed Blackwall took the seat Dorian had abandoned. She prodded him with her foot without looking up. “Don’t tell me you’re now conspiring with these two meddlers.”

“We’re worried,” he said simply.

She knew they wouldn’t leave her alone until they were satisfied with the outcome of this talk so she sat up and rubbed her forehead, grimacing when she found a tender spot. “All right, let’s get this over with,” Evelyn said with a sigh.

“Like we were saying,” Varric said, ignoring her scowl, “we’re just worried that you think Commander Cullen is going to change things around here. I mean, he is, but not in that sweeping, epic, happy-ever-after storybook ending you might be looking for.”

Evelyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They were becoming as unbearable as mother hens. “And what makes you think I think that?”

“Well, for one, you’ve been shouldering all the blame and refusing to take credit for anything that goes right these past few months,” Blackwall said.

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I’ll start to think I’m useless and fall into the shadows so Cullen can be elevated higher?” Evelyn looked at them and when she saw no reaction, went on. “Or that I’d defer to him every time he makes a suggestion because I don’t trust my own judgment anymore?” 

From the looks of their faces, she guessed right this time and Evelyn snorted in derision. “Your concern is greatly appreciated, gentlemen, but you’re wrong. In fact, the Commander and I had a conversation earlier where I questioned him on the wisdom of going back Adamant.”

“So you don’t trust him?” Bull said in approval.

“I do trust him, far more than I ever did Samson. You saw his first report, it's full of information I didn't even ask for but very pertinent to our objective. But I’ll have more faith in him if we accomplish our next mission.” The server arrived with four tankards and distributed them around the table. Evelyn picked hers up and drank from it slowly so she wouldn't have to talk right away. For some reason, their questions filled her with annoyance and hurt. It was as if _they_ didn't trust her anymore. "I don't know why you're all so worried, anyway. I haven't been taking all the blame and I'm only giving credit where it's due. Maybe instead of looking for things that aren't there and sitting here drinking and judging me, you should take a page from Cullen's book and find other ways to help the Inquisition."

Silence met her statement and Evelyn realized what she had just said. "Maker's breath," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes briefly and wishing this was a dream. But it wasn't and she reluctantly opened her eyes to face her friends and make apologies.

But instead of surprise and anger, she saw Iron Bull and Varric grinning at her. Blackwall simply nodded his understanding. "Felt good to get that off your chest?" Varric asked kindly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean," Evelyn began but Iron Bull stopped her.

"Boss, you've been wound up so tight since Samson left that we don't think you realize how much pressure you've put on yourself. You're only one woman, you know. There isn't a person here who blames you for anything, but you keep heaping the guilt on."

Blackwall nodded. "Iron Bull's right. If you keep this up, you're going to buckle under the strain and we'll be without the leader we need."

"It might help if you let go of things once in a while. You know, kick and scream and throw things. Show you're frustrated and furious. It reminds us that you're human and not some superhero compared to the rest of us mortals," Varric said. "And remember, you're not in this alone. We're here for you."

Evelyn sighed, fiddling with her tankard as she stared down at the table. "Okay, I hear you," she said. "I'll think about what you said. But I need a favor from all of you in return."

"Anything," Blackwall said immediately. "You name it, we'll do it." The others nodded.

The fact that they added no conditions like 'If it's not too crazy' or 'As long as everyone else agrees' to the promise showed that they did indeed trust her. Evelyn looked at the three men surrounding her. They were so different from one another, yet good at what they did and, really, so good to her. She had come to rely on each of her companions and advisers as much for their honesty as their skills. Evelyn sighed, regretting her snarky attitude, and she tried explain herself. "I need you guys to be with me on this. Right now, I can't handle any more questions about whether or not I'm all right and getting over the Samson situation. I have to focus on the future and to do that, I need you on my side without you wondering if I'm going to lose my mind from guilt and shame. Does that make sense?"

Blackwall, Iron Bull, and Varric looked at each other for a long moment before shifting their gazes back to her. "We can do that, Boss."

The exchanged looks still held worry, but she trusted they would keep their word. "Good." Evelyn picked up her papers and stood up. "Thanks, guys. I know you're saying this because you care, but I can't afford anymore distractions until Corypheus is dealt with permanently. Let me do my job and get us through this. Then, I promise, you all can analyze my feelings and keep asking questions until you're convinced I'm normal again. Deal?"

"By then, it might be too late," Cabot muttered as he strode by the table.

Evelyn glared at the bartender's back as her companions guffawed at the sudden slight but it broke the tension at the table so she couldn't be too angry with what was probably a calculated comment. “I’ve got some more work to do. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She headed towards the door but not before overhearing Blackwall hiss, “That’s the last time I listen to you two. Now she thinks we don’t trust her anymore!” The last sentence made her smile wryly as she stepped outside.

The crisp evening air and persistent wind was typical of Skyhold at this time of year and Evelyn stopped to inhale the vague aroma of damp earth and burning oil from the many torches lit to shed light on the fortress grounds. With dinner over, not many people were out anymore but those that were hurried to finish their business before it got too late. She nodded to a few people who acknowledged her as they passed but it was quiet enough for her to think about the conversation.

It bothered her that four of her companions had cornered her about putting too much guilt on herself. Cassandra had also mentioned something similar earlier in the day, but the Seeker was surprisingly sensitive and realized Evelyn did not want to talk about it. Cassandra did not press her much, though it appeared she seemed concerned as well.

But there was nothing to discuss. Evelyn didn't have much time to think about Samson or his betrayal except in passing because she had been too busy cleaning up the mess he left behind. Of course she was angry and wanted to wring his scrawny little neck, but saving the world came first. She accepted that. As the Herald and Inquisitor, Evelyn had to be the strong, unshakable leader everyone expected her to be, especially in the face of mounting disillusionment of what the Inquisition could accomplish. The Breach was closed, but there was so much more to be done.

There would be enough time to deal with Samson later. Evelyn would make sure of that.

All of her hope was now placed on their new commander. And so far, Evelyn had been impressed with his work ethic and abilities, and it was only his first day. Thinking on their earlier conversation about the army, she raised her eyes to the ramparts and was pleased to note that a several guards walked back and forth on sentry duty, marching with an extra bounce in their step. Cullen had been right; all the soldiers needed was a defined purpose and he had given it back to them.

Evelyn headed back to her room to finish looking over the remaining notes from Cullen before passing it on to Leliana and Josephine. She had a feeling that Cullen was very efficient when it came to work and it wouldn’t be long before they departed to take back Adamant.


	11. Preparations

Evelyn wasn’t the first one to the war room even though she was rather early. The door was ajar so she slipped in without being noticed. Cullen was there, pouring over the map and making notations on the sheet in front of him. A small frown puckered his brow as he looked for some notes to the side before returning his attention to the markers.

She approached him, making some noise to alert Cullen to her presence, and he glanced up, startled. “An early start, Commander?” 

“I just had to verify a few reports I received,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in a weary gesture.

Evelyn frowned as she noted the tired lines around his eyes and how pale his complexion was, even under his tan. “Did you sleep at all?”

Cullen slanted her a wary sideways look for a long moment. “A little.” He paused and when she looked at him expectantly, sighed before admitting, “It was one of my bad nights.”

“I’m sorry,” she said because there was nothing else to say. Now that she thought about it, Evelyn decided Cullen was right in keeping his struggles to himself. While there would be those who admired what he was doing, others would question his ability to lead, especially when he just began his role as commander. She wondered what Blackwall, Bull, and Varric would say if they knew about this.

As if reading her mind, Cullen said, “This won’t interfere with my duties. I took it upon myself to speak with Cassandra last night. As a Seeker, she is familiar with Templars and how we operate. She has agreed that if she finds I cannot fulfill my duties, she will relieve me of duty and find another replacement.”

Evelyn was taken aback by the sudden stab of fear jolting through her at his words and she stared at him, dumbfounded. That was not what she had been expecting, and she was both surprised and a little hurt that Cassandra hadn’t told her of this arrangement. “I hardly think that is necessary, Commander,” she said, trying to keep her voice sound normal.

“Nevertheless, it would comfort me to know if somebody was constantly evaluating my effectiveness,” he said. “I want to give my all to the Inquisition, my lady, but if I were to fail in my duties ...”

Evelyn filed away her initial reaction to his words for examine at another time because she heard voices behind her as Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra came in together, discussing a report from last night. She moved aside so they could circle around the table and felt more than saw Cullen stiffen as if fearing the women overheard him. But no one gave any indication they heard his last comment.

“Good morning, Inquisitor, Commander,” Josephine said cheerfully. “I see we’re the ones who are late this morning."

“Good morning,” Evelyn replied, watching Cassandra shoot Cullen a concerned look at his tired appearance.

“You’re not late at all, Lady Josephine,” Cullen said.

“Please, there are no need for formalities here,” Josephine said with an easy smile. “I suspect we’ll be getting to know each other very well in the weeks and months to come.”

Cullen returned her smile and Evelyn felt herself bristle in annoyance. While the ambassador was the recipient of a warm welcome, Evelyn herself received nothing but reluctance and a polite facade. That hardly seemed fair, especially considering how much they talked during their journey to Skyhold. Was it her? Did she say or do something wrong?

It took a moment to realize that Cassandra was now staring at her. Was she glaring at Cullen? It was a distinct possibility so Evelyn cleared her throat and avoided the Seeker’s gaze. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

The main topic of discussion was Adamant and Evelyn wasn’t surprised to hear that everyone was in agreement of Cullen’s plan. He had detailed the attack so precisely there weren’t many questions beyond a few clarifications. As she listened to him answer Cassandra on the ramming machinery, Evelyn felt reassured at his firm, confident voice that belied his fear of becoming useless. She didn't quite understand why it was so important for him to wean off lyrium, but like any other person, he had his reasons. Perhaps something in his past drove him to do certain things now.

As did hers. Evelyn sighed to herself before forcing her attention back to the conversation.

“We should be ready to move out by the end of the week,” Cullen said in conclusion before he looked over at her. “Inquisitor?”

Evelyn nodded, trusting his assessment of the army after all she had read last night. “That’s fine. I’ve decided to take Bull, Blackwall, and Solas with me.”

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra protested.

She raised a hand to stop her. “I need you to stay with our soldiers, Cassandra. They'll need a familiar figure to help lead the assault.”

“I will be personally leading the troops, Your Worship, if you wish to reconsider your party members,” Cullen said.

Surprised, Evelyn turned to him. “What? Why?”

The question seemed to surprise him. “I am the commander, am I not? It is my duty to be there with them to coordinate the attack.” When Evelyn said nothing, Cullen looked around to the other three women as if confirming the sudden tense silence that fell over the room. “Er, I take it Samson stayed behind?” he said tentatively.

Evelyn folded her arms across her chest, fighting back memories that sprang to mind, unbidden. If she thought about what happened before too much, her emotions would get the better of her. “He put one of his lieutenants in charge while he remained safe at Skyhold. She died in the attack.”

Cullen remained quiet for several tense heartbeats before he put his hands on the war table and leaned forward until he was face to face with her, eyed locked together, close enough that she felt his breath curl across her cheek. “That will not happen with me, Inquisitor.”

She was close enough to see the burning determination in his amber eyes, the clenched jaw under the scruff of his beard, caught the faintest scent of elfroot and armor polish, and felt the promise of every word he expelled. Evelyn forgot that anyone else was in the room as she stared into Cullen’s face and felt a kinship with the man. It was only his second day, but already she knew he was completely invested in the Inquisition and he would strive not to fail her.

Only Cassandra's gentle clearing of her throat broke Evelyn’s reverie and she shook her head to rid herself of whatever bewitchment Cullen had cast on her. “Thank you, Commander, I have no doubt you’ll perform your duties admirably.” She avoided looking at Leliana’s piercing gaze or Josephine’s curious smile by staring down at the map. “If we are set for Adamant, let us move on to the other problem areas.”

The moment was quickly forgotten as they shared intelligence and opinions on what should be the next move for the Inquisition. Leliana reminded them that the ball at the Winter Palace was quickly drawing near and they needed to warn Empress Celene of the threat on her life. Josephine assured them their invitations were secured and she would arrange their transportation, find a tailor to make their dress uniform, and see to every other necessary detail. This was, after all, her forte, and Josephine was thrilled with the responsibility. They would meet again to discuss further details once the assault on Adamant Fortress was finished.

When the meeting finally ended, Evelyn caught up to Cassandra as the Seeker strode off. She hadn't forgotten what Cullen said earlier and she was determined to find out what they discussed about his situation. “Did you agree to evaluate the commander as to whether or not he could fulfill his duties while suffering from lyrium withdrawal?”

Cassandra frowned at her blunt question. “Yes, I did. But only because he would not leave without that reassurance. He seemed very agitated last night. I do not expect to relieve him of duty, if that is your worry.”

Evelyn scowled because that was exactly her worry. “Why didn’t he come to me or even tell me about this arrangement until after the fact?”

“You should not be offended, Inquisitor. As a Seeker, I am uniquely qualified to evaluate Templars and Commander Cullen obviously felt those skills were needed in regards to his request.” Cassandra glanced behind her before she continued, “As you know, there are terrible consequences of prolonged lyrium use, but to stop taking it is no light matter, either. I have seen a handful of people attempt to break the addiction, but every single one of them failed.”

Evelyn’s heart sank at the ominous outcome. “Every one?”

Cassandra nodded. “But I also believe if anyone can do it, it will be Cullen. He has demonstrated extraordinary willpower and I am confident that he will carry out his duties, no matter how severe his symptoms are.”

Sighing, Evelyn stared at some rubble that had been discreetly swept into a corner. While she appreciated Cassandra's confidence in Cullen's abilities, Evelyn realized that it wasn't just about having a capable leader in charge of the army anymore. She simply didn't want Cullen to suffer. If his appearance this morning was an indication of how terrible the withdrawal symptoms were, why would he put himself through it? "Do you know why this is so important to him?" Perhaps she should talk to Cullen about this and get him to reconsider his decision. Skyhold received regular deliveries of lyrium to supply the Inquisition allies and adding one more person to the recipient list would hardly be any trouble.

The Seeker looked off in another direction as she considered the question. "I may have an idea. Did Cullen tell you why he left the Order?"

"Yes. Well, a little. He simply said they were going in a direction he no longer agreed with."

Cassandra gave her a grim smile. "When a man like Cullen says that, you know something went terribly wrong, nor was it not an easy decision for him to leave. Some people consider lyrium a chain which keeps the Templars tied to the Chantry and their whims forever. If someone no longer wanted to be a part of the Order, I can imagine it would include breaking that particular chain." She then sighed. "But that is merely my guess. I can say no more. Perhaps you should speak to the commander about it directly."

Evelyn nodded. “I will. I guess I'm a little disappointed Cullen didn't want to confide in me and he went to you instead.”

“Perhaps he did not want to look weak in front of you,” Cassandra suggested.

That made Evelyn snort. “Why would I think that would make him weak? He told me about it back at Honnleath and I still wanted him to join.”

Cassandra placed a hand on her shoulder with a little smile that Evelyn couldn’t quite read. “I wasn’t talking about Cullen not wanting to be weak in a _professional_ capacity.” With a quick squeeze, the Seeker left her behind to puzzle over that cryptic statement.


	12. Chapter 12

The week flew by quickly as more information about Adamant poured in daily. Evelyn received more briefs from her advisors than she had in the past few months and she studied each report fervently, looking for any signs that this was the wrong way to go. But each time Cullen sent in an update on the soldiers, it only eased the worry. In fact, Evelyn heard whistling from the battlements the other day when she crossed the courtyard. Whistling! She couldn’t remember the last time the guards had been so cheerful.

Actually, Evelyn thought the mood all over Skyhold was markedly improved. Soldiers moved with an extra bounce to their step, the workers continued rebuilding and fortifying the fortress now with inappropriate ditties that made Josephine despair, and even Maryden the bard composed a handful of rolicking music that brought noisy cheer to the tavern crowds in the evenings. Twice, Evelyn stopped by Herald’s Rest and spoke with Cabot who didn’t give her his trademark stink eye.

“Does that mean the world is coming to an end?” Dorian inquired drolly when she told him that. He then nudged her with an elbow. “Why are you so bony? I told you this chair isn’t meant to seat two!”

Evelyn shifted in a futile attempt to dislodge Dorian so she could claim the space for herself. “Probably. Which I guess means we shouldn’t attack Adamant. Or should we if we have nothing to lose? Stop pushing me!”

“Your hip bone is digging into my thigh,” he complained. “Oh, that’s right, aren’t Marchers known for having wide hips? Or is that Ferelden women? I can’t remember.”

For that comment, Evelyn shoved herself over until the mage popped out of position and fell on the floor. She shot him a triumphant look and sprawled her limbs all over the chair to claim it. “Take that back, ‘Vint,” she said in her deepest voice.

Dorian climbed to his feet and sent her a scathing glare, hands on his hips like a disapproving parent. “That’s a terrible imitation of Iron Bull’s voice. Don’t you have an Inquisition to run?”

“No. Why do you think I have advisors?”

He heaved a sigh and gave a longing look at his chair. “Why are you really here, Evva?”

“What, a girl can’t visit her friend for some relaxation? We’re leaving for the Western Approach at first light tomorrow.”

“Yes, and I’m a little more than grateful that you decided not to include me on this marvelous return trip,” he said. But before bad memories could cloud the mood between them, the mage continued on. “Why don’t you have some strategy meeting with the ones who are actually going?” Dorian then smirked at her. “Or, better yet, with that handsome, strapping ex-Templar.”

“Cullen? Why?”

“Oh, so it’s just ‘Cullen’ now, is it?” he teased. “And speaking of our new Commander, have you seen the ass on him? Gives me the shivers just picturing it when he’s training with the soldiers.”

Evelyn groaned. “First Bull and now you. What’s with all the staring at butts around here?”

“We’re in a fortress in the middle of the mountains and the only current visitors we have are several pompous Orlesian nobles,” Dorian said with exaggerated exasperation. “We need to have _something_ to do.”

She shook her head and got up to relinquish the seat. She had only come to say goodbye, anyway. “Fine, I’m going to leave you to your wine and books and imagination, you pervert. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Evva.”

Evelyn stopped in mid-step and glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Come back safely, all right?”

She had to smile, seeing the concern lurking in his dark eyes. “I will.”

“Good. And I want you to know that Bull stares at my ass because it’s perfection in the flesh. Of _course_ he has to stare. Everyone does. Even you.”

There was no good reply to that smirking comment so Evelyn decided to just leave with a huff. She bounded down the stairs and stopped to talk to Solas who assured her he was ready even before she could speak.

Evelyn supposed she had been a little overbearing the past week, constantly reminding her companions what to prepare for or what to bring. The memories of her first trip to Adamant still remained fresh in her mind and she would not be under-prepared this time. So Evelyn couldn’t help from saying it once again. “Wear your best armor, it might get very messy there,” she warned.

“Yes, Inquisitor,” Solas said.

Evelyn had to smile at his patient tone. “And your shiniest staff. If all else fails, maybe we can blind them and poke them repeatedly until they surrender.”

The look the elf cast her was not amused. “I will be ready,” he repeated with a slight edge to his voice.

She dropped the teasing in favor of letting her anxiety show. “Let me be worried, Solas. I already lost more than I ever wanted to at that place.”

Solas inclined his head, then clasped his hands in front of him and Evelyn recognized it as the start of a serious conversation. “I understand Commander Cullen’s reason for wanting to go back, but I cannot help but wonder if our resources would be used elsewhere,” he said. “If, indeed, you have lost so much there, why return when it is almost certain that the Grey Wardens are now under Corypheus’ control?”

Sighing at the loaded question, Evelyn glanced around the rotunda and admired the mural on his wall. She made a mental note to ask him to perhaps do her room when he finished with his. As beautifully as Josephine had decorated it, her quarters had nothing personal to show it was really hers. “As you said, the Commander has laid out reasons that we agree is worth the risk. But, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if it’s not for me, as well.”

He considered her words for a long moment. “Ah, the expression of getting back into the saddle after one has been thrown?”

“Exactly. He hasn’t said this, of course, but the conversations we’ve had seem to point in that direction.” She drifted over to the part of the mural with the larger-than-life-sized bird and reached out to touch the surface, feeling the uneven bumps of the stone where the paint glided over the imperfections of the wall. “I guess I need to go back to where I failed and make better memories of the place.”

“Interesting.”

Evelyn turned and looked at him with a small smile. “So that’s why we’re going back. But if you still don’t think it’s a good idea, I can ask Vivienne to take your place.”

He held out a placating hand. “Please don’t misunderstand me. You and I may not always agree on how we should proceed, but you have more than earned my respect, Inquisitor. I will follow you on this journey and lend you my aid, as always.”

“That is a great comfort to me, Solas. You know I rely on your wisdom and your level-headedness.”

“Which is the direct opposite of Iron Bull,” Solas said with a sigh. But he smiled at her when he said that and Evelyn chuckled.

“I’ll leave you to your work, then.” She wandered out to the grand hall, hearing the reassuring noise of the noble visitors gossiping about Commander Cullen and how his presence would affect the Inquisition. The familiar chatter and people filling the room sent a wave of nostalgia over her. Evelyn took a minute to look around, committing every part of the hall to memory. She was surprised to see how many changes had taken place over the past few months. Ever so slowly, Josephine had begun adding homey touches to the hall when coin permitted: a tapestry there, some bronze Orlesian atrocity that was supposed to pass as art near her throne, and huge braziers to counteract the draft from the mountains.

But more than how it looked, Skyhold had long ceased been just a refuge, but a home. And not just to her, but the many members of the Inquisition.

It was all worth preserving and Evelyn was determined to not fail them again.


	13. Chapter 13

The journey to Adamant Fortress was as long and hot as Evelyn remembered it. It wasn’t a memory she was particularly fond of and she fervently hoped this would be the last time she had make this trek. But as they marched closer to their destination, Evelyn focused less on the sand and heat and more on the mood of the army.

She was grateful that Cullen remained calm and steady despite the fact this was the first time he had been so far west. One night, she had caught his disgruntled expression as he emptied his boots of sand and Evelyn laughed at him. It was a much-needed light-hearted moment that chased away her fears, however brief.

When they finally camped just beyond the reach of the archers that lined the battlements of Adamant, Evelyn turned in early and instructed everyone else who could to do the same in preparation for the hard fight tomorrow. But even after laying down and shutting her eyes, she could not keep still. Sleep was even more elusive than normal and her mind wouldn’t stop working, either trying to repress terrible memories or going over their strategy for the umpteenth time.

After several hours, she finally gave up pretending to sleep. Ducking out of her tent, Evelyn made her way to the main camp fire. Sentries offered her a salute as she passed which she returned with a nod, but the person she expected to see wasn’t there, working as usual. She frowned and looked around, wondering if she missed the golden-plated armor in her restlessness. 

“Did you need something, Your Worship?”

Evelyn turned, relieved to see Captain Rylen approaching her. “I was just looking for Commander Cullen.”

“Ah. He is with the other men praying with the Sister Florencia,” he said, nodding towards her left.

That surprised her, but when Evelyn thought about it, it actually made sense. The commander had never missed a morning prayer thus far, though she suspected it was more because he was already up anyway. Evelyn knew Cullen slept very little and it showed on his face nearly every morning they met in the war room. But he apparently used every minute of his time either working or training and his efficiency was exactly what the Inquisition needed now. She only worried about what happened when his inevitable crash would happen.

“Thank you, Captain,” Evelyn said and headed towards the aforementioned direction. In front of the Chantry banner, she heard the Sister speak the familiar words over the kneeling dozen or so soldiers, halfway through the Canticle of Transfigurations. Florencia noticed her hovering at the edge and gestured her to come closer without pausing in her recitation. Evelyn hesitated a brief moment before deciding some extra prayers wouldn’t hurt. She edged in until she was part of the circle and knelt down next to a soldier who was fervently murmuring to himself.

It had been a while since Evelyn had joined in a service outside of Skyhold, but every spoken word brought back memories of her family attending them in Ostwick. The familiarity of the Chant sent a wave of comfort over her, enough to ease her jumpy nerves and remind her that this time things would be different. The man leading the army actually listened to her and he cared about the people serving under him. She clung onto that thought as the ritual words spilled out from her without any effort.

When Florencia finished the service, Evelyn got up and met Cullen’s eyes as he approached her. “Inquisitor. I have to say I’m surprised to see you here.”

Suddenly uncomfortable under the awed gaze of the soldiers whom she had prayed with and the approving glances the Sister sent her, Evelyn shifted her feet. “Well, you know I am the Herald,” she said with an attempt to smile.

“You said you didn’t really ascribe to that particular title,” Cullen pointed out.

So he remembered she said that, did he? Evelyn made a face at him for not letting her get away with the glib response. “I grew up with my family attending almost every service in Ostwick. It’s just nice to slow down and take time to worship.”

Cullen studied her for a moment before he smiled. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Would you walk back with me? I'd like to go over plans once the fortress is captured.”

“Of course.” Despite her calmed nerves, Evelyn knew if she tried to sleep now, she would fail again and end up even more frustrated. It was better to get work done and tire herself out.

Now that she thought of it, Evelyn wondered if that was Cullen’s strategy. He had mentioned it was hard to stay asleep because of his nightmares, so perhaps he worked himself into an exhaustion until he fell in a dreamless slumber. Then he got up and did it all over again. She shook her head to herself. That method would only work for so long before he could no longer sustain himself. It was something she might have to bring up with him.

But not tonight. Evelyn glanced around the quiet hum of camp, silent except for the boots of the sentry crunching against the sand and the crackle of the campfire. Most of the soldiers seemed to taken her advice and turned in early. The remaining men and women were either on duty or preparing their weapons, a ritual Evelyn knew some soldiers went through for their own personal reasons. No one spoke except in the lowest of mutters as if speaking aloud would curse their second attempt at overtaking Adamant. “How are our soldiers holding up?” she asked softly, wondering yet again if she had made the right decision in returning here.

Cullen glanced at her and she thought there was surprise in his expression. “Some are a little nervous for tomorrow, and others are worried, but the overall mood is determined, I think.”

“I just don’t want any last minute panic attacks from the ranks,” she said by way of explanation. If enough people fell victim to the terror, it could demoralize entire regiments. Evelyn knew that from prior experience.

He shook his head. “There won’t be, Your Worship. The soldiers _want_ to be here. They want to win, and they want to do it for you.” 

Evelyn frowned, wondering if she was the only one apprehensive to be back. This was even the same place where they first set up camp in the previous attempt. She couldn't talk to her friends because she deliberately left behind those who had accompanied her on the original attack. An admittedly large part of her wished she didn’t have to come back herself. It had taken a month before nightmares in the form of the fallen soldiers stopped haunting her with frequency. Hawke and the Warden, who agreed to return to help stop Corypheus' plan, might have been an option, but they chose to camp elsewhere for the night, perhaps to distance themselves from another potential failed siege. Evelyn really couldn't blame them for that.

“Leliana’s scout has sent word that Adamant is on alert,” Cullen said, not noticing her pensive look as he opened the flap of his tent to allow her to enter first. He followed her inside and made his way to the makeshift desk, already stacked with papers, and selected an unsealed note to hand to her. As Evelyn took it and pointed it to the lantern to read the brief missive, he opened another folded sheet and frowned at it. “And a message from Josephine saying we shouldn’t hold our breaths for reinforcements from our so-called allies. She says they all send their regrets but they can’t spare anyone at the moment.”

“I guess it’s better that way,” she said, tossing the short scouting report back onto Cullen’s desk. “We’ve asked our men to adapt to a lot of changes in short amount of time. While the change has been for the better, we don’t want something as unreliable as other soldiers to ruin the positive steps we’ve taken.”

Cullen looked at her for a moment with a half-smile. “That is just what I would have said. It’s always better to look at the silver lining.”

Evelyn returned his smile, deciding not to tell him that before he came, it was all she could to keep the morale up even just a tiny bit. “Well, Commander, you have me for the next hour or two so let’s make the most of it.”

They discussed the effects of succeeding at Adamant and the next move of the Inquisition army and where it would do the most good. Despite having seen him work, Evelyn was even more impressed with Cullen’s tactics and suggestions for improvement, both within Skyhold and sending their soldiers out to represent them. They were discussing trebuchets and how effective they would be in the event of another attack at their base when Evelyn interrupted Cullen with a loud yawn. Surprised, he stopped in mid-sentence and they stared at each other.

“I’m so sorry-,” she started.

“My apologies, Inquisitor, I’ve kept you up too late,” he said at the same time. There was another second pause before they both chuckled in awkward amusement.

“I think I’m ready for bed, Commander,” Evelyn said, willing her blush to die down. “And again, I’m sorry.”

He brushed off her words with a good-natured smile. “I’ve been accused of being too passionate about things that don’t normally interest people. I am not offended in the least. But will you be rested enough for the assault?”

“I’ll be just fine.” Evelyn hesitated, gauging whether or not now was the time for a lecture on good sleep habits.

But Cullen gave her no chance to say anything. “Allow me to escort you to your tent. That will give me a reason to make a surprise inspection on the sentries,” he said. Cullen strode over and pulled back the flap of his tent for her.

She had no choice but to nod in agreement, though Evelyn suspected Cullen simply wanted to make sure she was actually going to her bedroll rather than actually pull an inspection on the hyper alert soldiers on guard duty. As they walked the short distance to where she set up her shelter, Evelyn decided to keep her mouth shut for now. She wasn’t his mother to nag him about sleep. All she could do was keep an eye on him and have the rest of her advisors do the same.

“Good night, Inquisitor,” Cullen said when they reached her tent. “Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” she echoed, hating that she was glad to be putting off the discussion for another day. As Evelyn ducked inside, she promised herself that she would talk to Cullen about it once this was all over.


	14. Adamant

The assault to get the front gate open had gone almost picture perfect. Cullen was proud of his soldiers for working together and trusting in one another despite all the changes since his arrival. They obeyed his commands without hesitation, executing his orders with the precision of a finely honed military instrument, and the Inquisitor and her small party entered the fortress with little problems.

Cullen signaled Rylen to lead another regiment inside and spread out towards the ramparts so they could give Evelyn some cover as her group searched for Erimond. Apparently, the magister had fled deeper into the stronghold once the army successfully breached the gates and the Inquisitor went right after him, heedless of the demons milling around. The bewitched Grey Warden mages didn't seem to notice the scores of dead bodies littered the courtyard where the sacrificed warriors were tossed aside like refuse. Adamant was covered with blood and Cullen decided there was no saving it, not with all the horrors that happened here.

Despite what appeared to be a neverending number of demons, the fighting seemed contained and almost laughably easy. The soldiers engaged the enemy as if they had done it hundreds of times before, standing firm against wave after wave of abominations attacking them. Cullen let cautious optimism creep up that this would be a win, and easier than he thought.

Until the dragon showed up, announcing its arrival with a roar that shook the foundations of the fortress. Despite their training, a good number of soldiers froze, and some screamed in terror when the monstrosity swooped down so close every soldier in the courtyard felt the heat emanating from its belly. Outstretched claws raked up several men, tossed them airborne, and the tail lashed out to catch others and slam them against the fortress wall.

It had to be the same dragon that had attacked Haven, massive and just as deadly as all the reports had described it. Cullen couldn’t stop staring at the creature circling around Adamant for a good minute, maybe two, until Rylen came running up, asking for new orders. He almost laughed because what else could he say? It was a simple enough: keep looking up when you could and dodge the red lyrium attacks that came from its mouth or when it dove by.

“Rally the men, tell them to keep the demons busy until the Inquisitor has a chance to find any remaining Grey Wardens and Erimond,” he told Rylen. When a pair of shades came gliding up, claws outstretched, he and the captain took a moment to dispatch them quickly before resuming their quick conference. “And make sure no one gets near that fade rift before the Inquisitor can get it closed.” Cullen hoped wherever Evelyn was, she would return quickly to close the rift or more demons would continue pouring out from it, attracted by all the death and devastation.

“Yes, sir!” Rylen went off to relay his message and Cullen went over to help some soldiers fight against a rage demon and the Warden mage that controlled it. Once that was done, he told them to stand guard against any advancing monsters. Looking around, he was pleased to see the regiments regain their focus, spurred on by the commanding officers to keep going. They were holding their ground and helping one another battle against the abominations and it was the best Cullen could hope for until someone came up with a brilliant idea to defeat the blighted creature. 

Then he heard the dragon roar in the distance, followed by sharp cracking sound of crumbling stone and a flash of bright green from the other side of the fortress. He looked over there and barked an order at somebody to find out what in the Andraste’s name that was when he saw a scout running to him, panic and fear on his face.

“Commander! The Inquisitor and her party were attacked by the dragon. Part of the walkway collapsed and they all fell into a fade rift!”

The words, jumbled and rush, didn’t make sense to Cullen for the longest moment. It was only when the scout said, “Ser! The Inquisitor!”

Everything seemed to slow down as if time was being warped as Cullen realized exactly what the scout said. The Inquisitor and her party of five others were in the Fade. Perhaps not dead, if Evelyn had managed to open a rift. She had most likely done it as a last resort to save them from plummeting to their deaths.

But how could they survive being physically in the Fade? And worse, what was he supposed to do with demons still spilling out from the rift in the courtyard and the dragon wreaking havoc from the air?

He had failed her. He had failed the Inquisition. 

“Ser! Ser Cullen! Please tell us what to do.”

Cullen stared down at the scout whose name he couldn’t remember for the life of him. Oswin? Owen? Whoever the scout was, he was young, barely older than the Inquisitor herself, and shaking him by the armor. Tears spilled out of the young man’s eyes, pleading for a sign. Or some sort of hope that this wasn't the end.

 _Get yourself together!_ Cullen told himself sternly. This was no time for him to wallow in the darkness when his men were counting on him. He clung onto the hope that Evelyn was just too damn stubborn to die and the rest of her party would protect her to the end. If that was the case, Cullen had a job to do. He disengaged the scout’s hands and gripped it tightly. “Look at me,” he said. “Calm down and look at me.”

Osten. His name was Osten. The name came to him as Cullen called on years of mental discipline to steady himself. He waited until the scout’s trembling was reduced to small shakes. “Osten. I need a message sent back to Skyhold, for Sister Leliana and Lady Josephine’s eyes only. Tell them - briefly - what happened. Then return to me. I need you to be my runner. Do you understand?”

The calm he projected seemed to work because Osten nodded immediately. “Yes, ser!” And he darted off towards the back of the line.

Cullen looked around and noticed Rylen heading towards him again. “I heard,” he said in a clipped tone before the captain could tell him the one thing he did not want repeated.

“What do we do, Commander?”

Grateful for Rylen’s unruffled behavior, Cullen quickly formed his strategy as he strode towards some fighting which had gotten thicker. “Do not allow the men to get discouraged, that is the worst thing that can happen. Have them keep fighting, and let’s try to get the courtyard cleared of the demons. The Inquisitor and her party will find their way back and that open rift might be the only option to return.”

“Commander, what if the Inquisitor ...”

He cut Rylen off by placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Captain, now is not the time for disbelief. If the Inquisitor is truly the Herald, the Maker will certainly not let her die before she accomplishes her destiny. Keep the demons occupied, preferably dead, and have everyone watch out for the dragon. Send the injured to the healers and make sure no one gets past us to the back line. We have to be ready when Her Worship returns. Am I understood?”

Rylen searched his expression for a moment and seemed satisfied by what he saw. “Yes, Commander. I’ll relay your orders and see that the courtyard is cleared myself.”

“Good.” As Rylen left, Cullen took a moment to himself, praying that he wasn’t wrong about the Inquisitor and everything else. But now was not the time for self-doubt. His soldiers, despite their short time together, trusted him to win this battle and bring them home. He would not let them down, or die trying.

To take his mind off the niggling uncertainties, Cullen engaged several demons to free two soldiers from being pinned down by them. Surprising them from behind, he managed to kill one shade and distract the others until the soldiers quickly finished the remaining two. Once all the abominations were dispatched, he directed the soldiers to sweep the area and look for the injured to be pulled back.

Turning around, Cullen saw a terror demon emerge from the ground and stalk towards him with claws outstretched and a cackle meant to terrorize his soul. He regripped his shield and raised his sword in readiness. _Maker, keep the us and the Inquisitor safe_ , he prayed fervently.


	15. Chapter 15

The fighting was endless, the sun relentless, and Cullen didn’t remember how many demons he had killed, or when he had a moment to think beyond what to do in the next second. All he had time to do between waves of fighting was bark orders or shout encouragement to his men to keep going, that the end was near.

Of course, he didn’t know for certain when the end would come. Hours had ticked by and there was still no sign of the Inquisitor or her party. And Cullen wasn’t even sure what ‘end’ he was talking about: the good or the bad.

At least being so busy kept his mind off worrying about the Inquisitor. When he had a moment to spare, Cullen would sent up a silent, pleading prayer to the Maker for their safe return and then resume the fight.

To make matters difficult, the dragon kept circling overhead, breathing out noxious gas and swooping down close enough to use the power from its massive wings to throw them off balance. The demons would then surge forward to take advantage of the confusion and fear, attacking with renewed vigor. Once the soldiers got their footing back, they had to regain whatever ground they lost all over again. The constant struggle to hold their positions while waiting for a hopeful sign could easily run an army down, and Cullen instructed the officers to keep their spirits up as much as possible.

Aware that he also needed to remain visible to everyone for additional morale, Cullen stayed at the front as the first line of defense where the fighting was the heaviest. During a rare quiet moment, Cullen tried to catch his breath when someone thrust a waterskin to his face. “Commander, let us relieve you for a while. Captain Rylen said you’ve been here the longest. We’re rested and ready.”

Cullen took the proffered leather and drank deeply from it, grateful for the cold, crisp water that helped his parched throat. He looked up to recognize a promising young officer under Rylen and several other soldiers behind her. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Make sure to stop the demons from advancing any further than this line and keep clear of that dragon. I'll return shortly.”

“Yes, Ser. We’ll take over from here until you return.”

Cullen nodded and handed the waterskin back before heading towards the back of the line. It would be a good idea to check in and see the status of their numbers and supplies in case they were going to be at Adamant longer than they excepted. As Cullen passed the soldiers on guard, waiting for the next wave of attack, they acknowledged him with the grim-faced look of men and women weary but not yet beaten. It made his chest ache with pride to see their resolve to win, no matter what.

He even saw that determination with the injured. The makeshift infirmary was filled with wounded soldiers, but as Cullen stopped to speak an encouraging word to them, he saw several men asking to be returned to duty. The mage - Rayna, who had helped the Inquisitor close the rift near Honnleath - checked their wounds, deemed them healthy enough, and cleared them to go back. She caught his eye afterwards and a moment of understanding passed between them. Cullen nodded and she returned the acknowledgment before turning her attention back to her patients.

Once the majority of the fighting was under control, Cullen had set rotations to stand guard so each squad could take turns resting. Arriving at the command tent, he sent Osten to check in with the squad leaders to see if their numbers needed bolstering. He also spoke with the requisition officer on checking healing supplies as well as receiving extra replacement armor and weapons from Griffon Wing Keep, the closest Inquisition outpost. Rylen stopped by during his own moment of respite and assured Cullen the courtyard was under their control.

"How are the soldiers handling the constant fighting?" Cullen asked, signing off on the equipment transfer.

"Doing as well as we can expect, Commander. They saw you with standing them and it helped," Rylen said. He then hesitated before pointing out, "Ser, your arm is bleeding."

Surprised, Cullen glanced at his right arm and grimaced when he saw a growing spot of bright red bleeding through his shirt between the pauldron and vambrace. The terror demon had caught him on his sword arm with one of its claws but the wound seemed too minor to bother the healers or take a potion. He had simply tied a strip of cloth around it to have it looked at later. Now of course, with the adrenaline fading, it began to ache right down to the bone. Muttering to himself, Cullen set the missive down and began hunting for something to rebind the wound.

"I'll get a bandage from the healers," Rylen said, taking a step towards the entrance. "No one'll believe it's for you, though," he added with a grin.

Cullen shot his second-in-command a puzzled glance. "What?"

Rylen chuckled. "Commander, you've been at the front lines for eight hours without rest or need of anything else. The regiments are beginning to whisper that you're indestructible. But maybe seeing you with an injury will remind them you're not."

There was no time to consider the ridiculousness of that statement. As Rylen ducked out, soldiers who swept the inner fortress reported in with good news. As Cullen suspected, some Wardens were skeptical of Erimond’s promise of stopping the Blight before it happened and had managed to barricade themselves in the basement somewhere. They came out when the fighting extended below and quickly joined the fight against the demons, horrified to see the carnage wrought by the ritual. The remaining Wardens were small in number as many of their brethren-in-arms had already been sacrificed, but it did not stop them from pledging their help to even fight against the bewitched mages. 

Reinforcements were on stand-by from Griffon Wing Keep but it didn't seem like they would need them. Now with the addition of the Grey Wardens, they had a better chance of keeping the demons at bay. Some Wardens even volunteered to attack the dragon and keep it busy and away from everyone, operating under the assumption it was an archdemon only they could stop.

The first indication that they were really going to win this one was that the dragon suddenly took off without warning. Cullen heard it roar in fury as it soared away, leaving behind an unsettling silence in its wake. He poked his head out of his tent to track its disappearance over the horizon, relieved to see it go. It had done a great deal of damage to Adamant itself, but Cullen was thankful most of the soldiers kept their heads low, looked up often, and dodged. He noted it would be a good time to work on agility skill sets back at Skyhold, when no one would complain about the difficult training.

And then Osten finally came running to Cullen for the news he had been waiting - no, _hoping_ \- to hear. In contrast to the fear from the first message, the young man had a dazed expression of awe on his face. “Commander! The Inquisitor, she’s returned! And she killed all the remaining demons just by raising her left hand!”

Cullen’s heart stopped for a moment before it started again much quicker, this time thumping in equal parts relief and amazement. _Thank the Maker._ “All six of them returned?” he demanded.

At that question, Osten’s expression fell. “N-no, ser, only five,” he said.

Five. Four of them, including the Inquisitor, survived the Fade. That was more than he expected to return, though perhaps he shouldn't have underestimated Evelyn's determination to save the world, one person at a time. Cullen almost laughed out loud in patent relief. “Where are they?”

“At the courtyard where the rift was, just as you predicted.” And the admiring expression switched over to something uncomfortably like hero worship, focused on Cullen. “Shall I write to the advisors with the good news?”

“Maker, yes.” Cullen could only imagine how Leliana and Josephine had reacted to his initial message, sent via the spymaster’s birds. They had probably worn a hole in the war room, pacing as they waited for an update from him. “When you return, bring all the mages with healing abilities for the wounded.”

“Yes, Commander!”

As Osten scampered off, Cullen resisted the urge to stride towards the courtyard to see the Inquisitor for himself. He had too much to do here, coordinating the few remaining battles, directing the recovery and aid process to ensure all the injured were sent for medical treatment, and ensuring there were no lingering pockets of enemies holding out in the stronghold. He would also personally instruct Leliana's agents to scour the fortress for any information or clue as to Corypheus' plans.

When he heard cheering coming from all over the fortress indicating victory, Cullen finally sat down on an unbroken crate to breathe. Even before daybreak, he had been up and directing his men non-stop, fighting against the constant wave of abominations that kept appearing, and nibbling on some hard bread someone had slipped him in passing. Now that the battle was over and they had _won_ , he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over to him. Still, their first win together as commander and army was exhilarating, and Cullen realized again how much he missed the camaraderie of standing and struggling with fellow soldiers in a united purpose. He was glad that the Inquisitor convinced him, or guilt-tripped him or whatever, to join the Inquisition. This was where he belonged, he felt it in his soul.

But that didn't stop him from wishing just for a minute's rest. With a sigh, Cullen got up to his feet as he heard Osten racing towards him. “Commander! We got him, we got Erimond! He’s still alive!”

An unexpected boon. Cullen added 'transportation of prisoners' to his list of things to do. He steadied the young man as Osten skidded to a halt and panted from his run, waiting for orders which Cullen gladly gave. “Take away his staff and keep him in custody with a few of the former Templars. We’ll wait for the Inquisitor to decide what to do with him.”

“Yes, ser!” Having caught his breath, Osten raced off again, almost bumping into one of the lieutenants from Rylen making a beeline for him.

“I have news, Commander,” she said, and Cullen tried not to look longingly at his crate which, for a moment, had felt like the most comfortable seat in the world. Instead, he took in a deep breath, squared his shoulders and nodded to her.

“Report.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this chapter was a little narrative-heavy but there didn't seem much need for dialogue while everyone waited for the Inquisitor to finally show up again.
> 
> On another note, this arc is almost over! Only a few chapters left! Woohoo!


	16. Chapter 16

Cullen thought he would see the Inquisitor sooner but it wasn’t until late evening when she finally strode into his tent. With her came a vaguely odd scent of decaying matter and something else he couldn’t quite describe. Otherworldly, perhaps? Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant and he didn’t know how the Inquisitor stood it.

She apparently noticed his look because Evelyn sighed. “I know, I desperately need a bath, but I haven’t had time and now I’m afraid it’ll linger on my armor for the next ten years, never mind my skin.”

“You’re fine,” he lied.

Evelyn frowned and took a step forward, bringing another fresh waft of the Fade with her. “Don’t do that,” she warned.

Cullen was surprised at her sudden vehemence. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t ever lie to me. Please. I just ...” She fell silent for a moment. “If there is one thing you can do for me, it would be to never lie to me, ever. Not even if you think it’ll spare my feelings.”

He finally understood what she meant. In order to be able to trust him, she had to know he would never tickle her ear with things she wanted to hear. Or perhaps something had happened in the Fade that warranted such a strong reaction? Whatever the case, it didn't matter because she had stressed how it was important to her and he wanted to honor it. So Cullen nodded and said, “You’re right. I apologize. You smell dreadful and I hope the rest of your party takes a bath or three before I encounter them.”

Evelyn’s mouth fell open in surprise and it took a moment before she broke into a wide, brilliant smile. “I’ll be sure to have them parade in here before they go anywhere near water, Commander,” she teased.

“Maker save me,” he said with a groan. Then Cullen sobered as he inspected her person carefully. For someone who had been physically through the Fade, she looked remarkably uninjured and un- well, crazy, he supposed. “Are you all right? I heard that you had to leave someone behind.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, looking away from him. “Yes, so the rest of us could escape. I had no other choice.”

Cullen strode over to Evelyn and grasped her by the upper arms, wanting to shake her because he knew she was once again blaming herself for not pulling off the impossible. “You did what you had to do to get back,” he said firmly. “Do not lessen the sacrifice by feeling guilty. The fact that most of you returned is nothing less than a miracle.”

“Right, the Herald does it again.” Evelyn shook her arms free of his loose grasp and sat down on one of the barrels used as a makeshift seat. Her expression changed into something like regret and pain which tugged at Cullen's heart because she didn't look like the imposing leader of the Inquisition. “I remember everything that happened at the Conclave now. It wasn’t Andraste who saved me. It was Divine Justinia, or her Spirit, or a Spirit that embodied her or ...” She threw her hands up. “Whatever it was, I’m not the Chosen one or anything of the like. I was just there at the wrong time in the wrong place.”

“Or the right time and place,” Cullen said. When Evelyn stared at him, he shook his head in disbelief that she couldn't see what he saw. “Maker, do you really think none of this happened the way it’s supposed to? If you weren’t there, Corypheus would have succeeded long ago and we would be in a lot more trouble than this. You’ve just handed him his first major defeat. Taking away his demon army is a significant blow.”

"And what about keeping quiet about the fact that I'm not Andraste's Chosen? I should continue to let everyone believe a lie?"

Cullen didn't flinch from the challenge in her eyes. "If you were deliberating deceiving people, I would be against it. But the fact of the matter is, people needed something to believe in when the Breach first opened and the templars and mages broke away. When I first heard about you, I was relieved. Andraste saved you to remind us that all was not lost, that this is all some part of the Maker's greater plans. And when I actually met you, I thought to myself that she could not have chosen a better Herald." He leaned forward, locking gazes with her. "And who's the say that the Maker or his Bride didn't keep the Divine safe in the Fade until you two met?"

Evelyn remained skeptical, he could tell, but she didn't seem inclined to argue any further. Instead, a slow smile dawned on her lips, reaching her eyes until they glowed. “We won, huh?”

At that, Cullen had to smile back. “We did, Your Worship.”

Evelyn remained silent for a moment before she said softly, “I almost forgot what it felt like. To finally win one against chaos, to see the army united in one goal. It’s almost like we found our purpose again. It’s a wonderful feeling.”

He mutely agreed with her. Despite being hungry - he hadn’t had time to get more than a mouthful of stew even after the battle ended - and the bone-deep exhaustion and sand getting into everything, Cullen reveled in the shared accomplishment of their first hard-fought battle with his soldiers.

Then he remembered he had more news to share with her. “Leliana's agents did a complete sweep of the fortress and found some interesting letters between Erimond and Warden Commander Clarel. It explained why the Wardens even partnered with the Venatori in the first place, and it appears they didn’t know the entire story of what they were getting into.”

Evelyn sighed. “I suspected as much. For all the Wardens in Orlais and Ferelden to hear the Calling together was suspicious enough. Before we were thrown off the battlements, Erimond said something that made me think Clarel regretted her actions. Apparently, she died trying to save a few of the remaining Wardens from being turned. Maker, what a mess!”

“Clarel and the Wardens should have known better,” Cullen said, shaking his head. "There is no shortcut to victory. Of all people, they should know that."

"Well, I wouldn't bring up your disapproval with Blackwall. He feels as though the Wardens should be given another chance. He's a big believer in redeeming oneself, apparently."

Cullen couldn't disagree with him there. After all, he was in the same boat, trying to make up for the lives lost in Kirkwall because he had placed his trust so blindly in his commanding officer. "The remaining Grey Wardens did help with the battle and saved many lives. Nevertheless, their actions must have consequence because of what happened and what _could_ have happened if Erimond succeeded. I don't envy the decisions you have to make, Inquisitor. But we'll trust in your judgment, as always."

Evelyn groaned and looked up briefly as if asking the heavens for strength. "I'll save the decision making for tomorrow, when my head is clearer." She looked back at him, cocked her head and leaned forward. "Did you get hurt, Commander?" she asked, nodding towards his arm.

Glancing down at his bandage, Cullen touched it briefly out of reflex. "Ah, just a minor wound. It didn't even need a dressing."

"You should have a healer look at it," she said in admonishment.

Cullen waved off her concern, touching though it was. "Thank you, Your Worship, but I'll be fine. I'd prefer our healers concentrate on the heavily injured first. And speaking of the army, once we return to Skyhold, I'll give you a complete report on our soldiers, but I will say now that they did an excellent job. You should be proud of them."

She smiled at him. It was brief but genuine and, for a moment, made her seem vibrant and without heavy burdens on her shoulders. “I am, and I will make sure to tell them so. They returned to a place of bad memories and stood against scores of demons for hours on end and each soldier deserve to be recognized for it. This victory is more theirs than mine."

 _Such humbleness_ , Cullen thought, staring at Evelyn with what he was sure was a mix of awe and disbelief. It was a look he had seen on various peoples' faces at Skyhold before, and now he understood their admiration for her. Why hadn't he joined the Inquisition sooner? If he had, perhaps he would have been more useful than wallowing in Honnleath and there wouldn't be so many problems to fix now.

But he couldn't afford to think that way. No one could change the past and Cullen was tired of regrets. But he also realized he was looking forward to seeing just how much they would accomplish in the months to come.

Apparently taking his silence as the end of the conversation, Evelyn said, "Well, I’m going to go pour water over my head a few hundred times because I can’t stand the smell of myself anymore. I’ll have a more thorough report on everything that happened when we get home.” Evelyn stood up and looked at him, her smile fading into a solemn expression. “Thank you, Commander. We also couldn’t have done it without you.”

It felt like she was thanking him for more than just helping to capture Adamant. Cullen nodded, aware that she had needed the win just as badly as he did. “It is only the first of many more victories, Inquisitor,” he promised.

Evelyn smiled again, this time softer but no less genuine, and ducked out of the tent. It was only after she had been gone a while when Cullen realized she had left behind some gray matter oozing on the ground which kept his tent full of that unsettling, fresh-from-the-Fade smell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a few of you were wondering who got left behind in the Fade but it doesn't really matter to this particular story (sorry Hawke and Warden!). I try to keep many details like that vague so the reader can decide what they prefer.
> 
> Only 2 chapters left. More Cullen/Inquisitor interactions on the way!


	17. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the extreme lateness of this chapter. I messed up the timeline and even after I tried switching things around, it just wouldn't work. Hopefully, this version makes sense. The final chapter will be posted soon!

The debrief at Skyhold about what happened at Adamant left a sour taste in Cullen’s mouth as he, Josephine, and Leliana heard the full story of what happened in the Fade. Leliana seemed particularly shaken by appearance of the Divine - or a spirit in her body, at least - but Cullen knew Evelyn would speak to the spymaster about it in detail later, in private. He liked that she took the time to reach out to those closest to her, always willing to listen and help in whatever way she could.

But even as they celebrated their victory, Cullen knew there was much left to do. There were still Red Templars to worry about and the frequency of their presence seemed to be increasing. From the cryptic letters found in Adamant, Corypheus seemed to have more plans of expanding his army through the use of mining red lyrium but they had yet to uncover more information on how.

To make matters worse, the constant smell of that Fade ooze hadn’t left Cullen’s nose in days. He wasn’t sure if it was because the Inquisitor and her party still had the aroma clinging to their skin or armor, or because his tent had smelled like it, even after someone got rid of the remains.

“Note to self, burn that tent,” he muttered.

“Commander?”

Startled, Cullen looked up to see Josephine, Leliana, and the Inquisitor all staring curiously at him. He flushed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Um, sorry. What were we talking about?”

“Halamshiral,” Leliana prompted.

He tried to hide a grimace. An Orlesian ball was not his idea of a grand time. “Yes, five weeks away. Between Leliana’s agents and my soldiers, we’ll be able to sneak them into the party a few at a time. I am concerned, however, that if Corypheus’ people are in place at the ball, the Inquisitor may also be in danger.”

“Why? I’m not the target,” Evelyn said in confusion.

“But you are his rival, and he has already made an attempt on your life,” Cullen reminded her. 

“What do you suggest, Commander?” Josephine asked. “After all, this is a ball, and no one is expecting trouble in the way we are.”

“A bodyguard, perhaps?” he suggested. “Or perhaps one of Leliana’s shadow agents to watch her.”

Josephine and Leliana looked at each other before bursting into peals of laughter. Even Evelyn had a grin on her face, though she at least tried to wipe it away when he glanced at her. “What is so funny?” he said, trying to keep his irritation and sudden uncertainty to himself.

“Commander, it’s a _ball_. People are supposed to have fun,” Evelyn said, her mouth still twitching. “I can’t have a bodyguard, that would be especially insulting to Empress Celene and her security.”

“If there wasn’t a problem with the Empress’ security to begin with, we wouldn’t have to go to this stupid thing,” he snapped. He sighed, immediately regretting his harsh words. “Forgive me, Your Worship, I didn’t mean to be rude. But we’re not going there to play the Game, we’re there to protect Celene and stop Corypheus from continuing his plan.”

“No apology is necessary, Commander. I understand it’s your job to think of my safety as well.” Evelyn looked at the other women. “I’m sure the Grand Duke wouldn’t mind if I brought some of my friends with me, correct?”

Josephine consulted her board for a moment. “The invitation said we can bring anyone of consequence, Inquisitor,” she said. 

Evelyn snorted in derision. “Anyone of consequence, of course.” Raising her brows, she glanced at Cullen. “Is me bringing three others besides my very capable advisors and our soldiers enough protection, Commander?”

He looked at all three women who gave him kindly but unhelpful smiles before sighing in resignation. There was no way they were going to go follow his suggestion even though it was simple logic. “I suppose it will have to do. But, Inquisitor, you should be careful.”

“I’ll be very careful, I promise.”

When the council was over, Cullen gathered up his papers and headed out the door. Leliana and Josephine stayed behind to chat about a supposedly serious matter - did he hear something about shoes? - but the Inquisitor fell in step next to him, distracting him from their conversation.

“Can I help you carry something?” Evelyn offered.

“No. Thank you, Inquisitor. It’s not much at all.” At least, for now, anyway. Their popularity had, predictably, soared once people heard about their victory at Adamant. Josephine was elated with the positive responses she had been receiving from nobles interested in throwing their support to the Inquisition. But with new allies came new security issues and somehow the paperwork had doubled. He grimaced at the thought of how much more would be on his desk when he arrived at his room.

Evelyn gave him a thoughtful look, keeping up with his rapid strides towards his office. Cullen liked that she kept pace with him with seeming little effort. Most women could not. Of course, Evelyn wasn't like most women. “So ... can I ask something about Templars?”

Surprised at the topic, Cullen nodded. “Certainly.”

“Templars are supposed to be dedicated to the Order and the Maker, right? I understand some even take a vow of celibacy.”

He almost stumbled over his feet as he stopped to stare at her. It was almost like watching two fighters clash in slow motion and one was about to get bowled over in a painful sort of way. Cullen knew where this was going and he could feel the back of his neck flush as he desperately hoped that she would not ask the question he knew she was going to ask.

“Did you?”

Maker! Evelyn had a funny little smile on her face, even leaning forward as if she was intensely curious of his answer. Cullen reached up to rub the back of his neck, finding it hot, and shifted his feet back and forth. “What - why do you - why would -” He sighed, frustrated that his tongue wouldn’t work the way he wanted it to. Perhaps a blunt answer would be best. “No. I have not.”

“Oh. Why not? Is there somebody special waiting for you? In Kirkwall, perhaps?”

Cullen coughed, looking around in desperate hopes that a runner would come interrupt him. But of course, when he was in the most uncomfortable conversation he had ever had with the Inquisitor, no one was around. At least there weren’t any witnesses to his embarrassment. “Um, no. I wasn’t very ... social during my time at the Circles.” Especially not at the last one. But that wasn’t something he wanted to share right now.

“You don’t say? You mean your tendency to work without stopping wasn’t developed here at the Inquisition?” Evelyn teased him.

He tried to smile but every muscle in his face seemed frozen from unease. “Ah, no.”

Apparently she took pity on his uncomfortable state because Evelyn simply smiled again. “Well, thank you for enlightening me. I’d better let you get back to work, Commander.”

He watched as she cast him one more speculative, lingering glance before she sauntered off towards the training field. Taking in a deep breath, Cullen restarted for his office, but his mind jumbled at why she would ask such personal questions. 

With iron will determination, Cullen managed to force the entire conversation from his mind as he went through his usual morning meetings. But later, it finally struck him that someone had probably dared the Inquisitor to embarrass him, most likely Sera who seemed to take special joy in pranking him. He already knew his reputation was one of a no-nonsense, button-down Commander, which would make him prone to pranks or be the butt of jests to a certain extent. But that was the kind of military leader the Inquisition needed and he wasn’t about to change himself to suit anyone else’s needs.

But why would the Inquisitor agree to ask such a thing? Perhaps she lost a bet and that was her punishment. Cullen sighed, wishing they wouldn’t include him on these ridiculous wagers. Pretending the entire conversation never happened would probably be the best thing to do, and hopefully that would stop the Inquisitor’s companions from baiting him further.

Satisfied with the plan, Cullen brought his attention back to the papers on his desk. Before, when he was in Honnleath, he had all the time in the world to focus on his withdrawal symptoms and avoid scaring his neighbors. Now, he was constantly busy so sleep came a little easier and the pain pushed a little farther from his mind. Training with the soldiers and not just poking at a dummy alone also helped. It was nice to be doing something useful and not have to worry about what his body was going through.

As he began to plow through the scouting reports forwarded from Leliana, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Enter,” he barked, frowning at the constant mention of Red Templars everywhere: the Exalted Plains, Emerald Graves, Emprise du Lion and the Hissing Wastes.

The Hissing Wastes. Of course they would be at the wastelands because no one else in their right minds would be. Cullen decided they were going to have to give Scout Harding a big raise for sending her to that region.

Rylen entered and approached his desk, a troubled frown marring his normally genial expression. “Commander, do you have a minute?”

Surprised at the uncharacteristic tone of seriousness in the captain’s voice, Cullen looked up. “Of course, what is it?”

His second-in-command seemed to be at a loss for a minute before he said, “Ser, I think there’s a problem.”


	18. Chapter 18

The impact of winning Adamant had immediate consequences, some that affected Cullen directly. Thanks in part to the victory, he found himself slipping into his role as Commander with relative ease. Those soldiers and especially mages who had been skeptical of an ex-Templar leading them had their doubts erased after Adamant. At least that’s what Cullen assumed, considering he hadn’t heard any negative gossip in the barracks apart from the usual grumbles of less-choice postings and night sentry duty.

Predictably, morale rose within the Inquisition, especially with the soldiers. Cullen used the opportunity to set a stricter training regimen, knowing that a fight with Corypheus was only beckoning closer. New recruits also poured in daily, eager to join the Herald’s army as word of her victory spread across southern Thedas. Cullen accepted them all, knowing that they had to rebuild the army to be truly effective.

About a month after Adamant, the Inquisitor came to visit Cullen in his office. Evelyn had just returned from the Emerald Graves the day before, bringing news of recruiting another agent and his people to the Inquisition. It amazed him how often she was on the move and how she made friends with everyone she met. Sometimes, Cullen thought she wasn’t mortal after all.

She made no mention of their last awkward conversation or seemed to remember it. “You seem to have settled in well, Commander,” Evelyn commented, looking around his office. Little had changed from last time, except now he had books on his shelf and scattered all around the room. The topics ranged from military strategies to histories to the lineage of every noble house in southern Thedas. The latter, of course, had been given to him by Josephine, who advised him to brush up on who was who, just in case he ran into one of them in Skyhold. Which Cullen fervently hoped he wouldn’t. She peered up the ladder. “Though I see your roof still isn’t fixed.”

Cullen grunted, trying to find the latest requisition form from Caer Bronach which he had just seen before the Inquisitor knocked on his door. It seemed harder to concentrate with her presence in the same room. “There were several emergencies requiring immediate attention with the building supplies and Gatsi promised to fix it when the next shipment came in.”

Evelyn frowned. “What’s more important than fixing the roof of our Commander’s room?”

At that, he looked up with a wry smile. “Well first, there were an incident concerning a certain prankster and the stables -”

“The stables?” she interrupted, her voice raised a little louder than normal. “My mounts?”

“No harm done to them, just the walls,” Cullen said hastily. He had quickly learned the Inquisitor was very protective of her animals. “Master Dennet and Blackwall were displeased, as you can imagine, but the stables were rebuilt quickly enough.” He sighed. “Then there was the kitchen roof incident, the courtyard gazebo, the scaffolding near your quarters ...”

Evelyn held a hand up to stop him. “All right, I get the point. Next time I’m gone for weeks at a time, I’ll take Sera with me. I just thought I needed more strength than stealth at the Graves.”

Cullen gave her a solemn look. “Inquisitor, we know you have your reasons for choosing whom you travel with. We would never dare to ask you to consider how much trouble one elf can cause in a place as large as Skyhold while you are away.”

She gave him disgruntled snort at his mock deferential tone. “Of course you wouldn't. Anyway, I didn’t really come here to inspect your roof. I came to see how everything is going. Anything I need to know?” Evelyn paused. “Besides more of Sera’s pranking, which she claims is good for morale.”

Cullen scowled, wondering what would happen if Sera decided to prank just for the sake of pranking. Probably burn down Skyhold, as the elf seemed to have some sort of unhealthy fascination with fire. And poison. And bees. “Nothing that can’t wait until the war council, Your Worship.”

“Good, I could use a break before we head towards the Winter Palace,” Evelyn said with a relieved sigh. “Has the tailor taken your measurements yet for the dress uniform?”

“Yes.”

She laughed at him. “Don’t sound so thrilled, Commander,” she teased.

Cullen cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed she had seen his disgruntled attitude so easily. “Apologies, Inquisitor. I’m just not used to attending parties and balls and the like.”

“Hmm, don’t be sorry. I grew up having to go to quite a few of them myself, and I never found it easy.”

For some reason, that remark startled Cullen until he remembered Evelyn was the daughter of a bann. He had almost forgotten about her background. It still surprised Cullen to think of her noble birth because Evelyn was so accepting of everything and everyone without displaying an ounce of snobbery. She hardly batted an eyelash when anyone declared something different from the norm, and she never made anyone feel uncomfortable or out of place. “How do you ...” Cullen began, then stopped, making a rude noise to himself. Was he really about to ask her if she was actually a noblewoman because she was so nice?

“How do I what?” Evelyn prompted when she realized he wasn’t going to finish.

Cullen decided he was never going to talk to the Inquisitor about anything except business ever again. He got into too much trouble when he spoke beyond his role. “Never mind,” he said, aware the back of his neck was flushed red.

She leaned towards him. “Now I’m curious,” she insisted. “What were you going to say?”

He bit back a groan by pressing his teeth down on his tongue. “How do you handle everything?” he asked quickly, charging forward while knowing he was digging himself a bigger hole. Cullen gestured, a little wild from his rush to explain himself. “I mean, being the Inquisitor with people looking on you to save Thedas, while maintaining your sanity.”

Evelyn leaned back and he caught a glimpse of something in her gaze. Disappointment? Did she not like the fact he was asking her about herself? Perhaps she thought he was questioning her ability to lead.

Before he could add anything else, to explain he didn’t mean it in a are-you-able-to-handle-being-the-savior-of-the-world and finish burying himself in the 8 foot hole he had dug, Evelyn responded even as her eyes drifted away. They landed on the tapestry he had hung in the vain hopes to make the tower more welcoming and to retain some warmth in the room. “It’s not easy, of course. But I have good friends who help, and three very capable advisors who make everything easier for me.” She finally turned back to smile at him, though it was a little forced and distant. “So thank you, Commander.”

No, no, that wasn’t what he meant at all. Cullen wanted to protest as he all but _felt_ the wall of professionalism slam down between them. He had only meant to cover up his blunder but somehow he ended up lying to her and questioned her ability to lead and their relationship had taken three steps back. Not that they had much of a relationship otherwise, of course, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have one.

He could hear his sister Mia’s exasperated voice in his head. _“She’s trying to be friends with you! Why can’t you reciprocate?”_

“I should go,” Evelyn said, turning to head towards the door.

Cullen couldn’t let her leave like this. If she walked out and he didn’t try to fix it now, it would be even more awkward the next time and who knew what other ridiculous questions would fly out of his mouth to cover it up. “Inquis- Evelyn, wait, please.”

She stopped and Cullen didn’t know whether it was the use of her given name or not, but he didn’t care. He stepped around his desk and approached her cautiously, like a man trying not scare away a hurt, wild animal. “Forgive me, that was not what I meant at all,” he said with a deep sigh. “I was trying to convey my admiration for all that you’ve done so far. Obviously it came out ... badly.”

Evelyn turned around and a wry smile turned her lips. He took that to be a good sign that she wasn’t so angry they couldn’t talk it out. “Not badly. Just not what I expected to hear.”

Oh good, he simply wasn’t clear enough. Because that was so much better. He sighed and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” They looked at each other for a moment before Evelyn cleared her throat. “So, what were you really going to say? Because you’re kind of a terrible liar. My guess is you don’t play cards very well.”

Cullen debated lying again but her expectant look convinced him otherwise. It wasn’t his character anyway, and he remembered the promise he made to her at Adamant. “I was ... just wondering how you could be so open-minded with everything, given your privileged background.” He winced as he said it because it sounded as bad as it had in his head.

“Ah.” But instead of looking annoyed or angry, a thoughtful expression crossed Evelyn’s face as she considered him. “You don’t have very high opinions of nobles, do you?”

He didn’t, but Cullen was loathed to say so, at least to the Inquisitor’s face. “I never had much dealings with them.”

And of course she couldn’t let it go. Varric had mentioned 'Inquisitor' was the perfect name for the job because Evelyn asked so many bloody prying questions all the time, and now it was Cullen's turn to experience it firsthand. “But when you did, it left you with a bad impression. Or at least it wasn’t good. What happened?”

Resisting the urge to shuffle his feet like a child being scolded, Cullen found he couldn’t meet her steady, hawk-eyed gaze. “I don’t care much for politics, especially after everything that happened in and after Kirkwall,” he said at last, hoping that was enough to stop her from pressing any further.

Evelyn must have realized how uncomfortable he was becoming because she put a consoling hand on his arm. “Of course. I don’t know why I expected otherwise. To answer your question, I found out early on that I couldn’t be too picky with whoever offered us help. The Inquisition was in its infancy and expected to fail with no Chantry support, not enough soldiers to defend us from an attack, and barely enough supplies to feed us and the pilgrims under our protection. I had to take a chance on anyone willing to throw their lot with us, no matter how different they were from me or whatever views they held.” She smiled then. “I guess it was an act of desperation. But I have to say it’s worked out quite well so far, wouldn’t you agree?”

The pragmatic reason for her decisions was nothing short of stunning. He had always thought she had some sort of master plan, gathering allies on the strength of their abilities or what they could offer the Inquisition. “Y-yes, very well,” Cullen managed to say after a pregnant pause. 

Evelyn dropped her hand on his arm but stepped closer, looking up at his eyes with an earnest, searching expression. “I know you’ve had bad experiences with nobles before, Cullen, but I’d like help change your mind that we’re not all terrible. Some, like my father, care about the people under his protection, just like you care for our soldiers.” Another smile lifted her lips as she said, “Promise me you won’t hold my noble birth against me?”

This time, Cullen could be honest as he said, “I won’t. I don’t, Your Worship. You are - “ He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t enough air to inhale. The scent of lilacs filled his nostrils, which didn’t help his light-headedness any. “You are an exemplary model of what every noblewoman should ascribe to become.”

She laughed at that and stepped away, finally allowing him more air to breathe. “Could I have you write that in a letter and send it to my mother?” Evelyn teased. “She’s forever complaining I’m not ladylike enough. Oh drat, is that the midday bell? I’m late to meet with Iron Bull and Sera. I’ll see you later, Commander. Don’t forget to eat lunch!” With a quick wave, Evelyn opened his door and bounded down the stairs.

Cullen watched her hurry back to the main keep, unable to tear his eyes off her even as she disappeared inside. He didn’t notice the messenger enter his office from another door, step to his side and look between him and the empty rampart. “Um, Commander?” she said tentatively.

He blinked several times and realized he had been _staring_. Grateful that he wasn’t actually caught watching the Inquisitor like that, Cullen hurried to his desk and cleared his throat, picking up the first sheet of paper he saw. “Yes?” he said crisply.

Ever the professional, the messenger went right to business. “Ser, urgent message from Sister Nightingale,” the runner said as she approached the desk, and waited until Cullen looked up to present the sealed note.

Sealed. Cullen’s stomach dropped as he realized what information it contained. He took it from the runner’s hand, hardly noticing her salute and head out, leaving him to stare at the folded paper.

He didn’t know how long he simply stood there until someone cleared his throat. “You know, if you focused on it a little harder, the paper might curl up on itself in fear,” drawled a voice at his door.

Startled, Cullen looked up and noticed Dorian Pavus who had artfully draped himself across the open doorway. Whether it was by accident or design, the sun glinted off the intricate designs on his clothes so that he glittered as if surrounded by a halo. Cullen suspected it was the latter, though he had no idea how the mage would know exactly when to make an entrance for the effect to happen. Cullen dropped the note on the desk and straightened up. “Can I help you?” he asked briskly.

Dorian sauntered inside, glancing around the room. “Settled in nicely, I see. It’s a bit drafty in here, though. Perhaps you should consider adding a fireplace, or at least fill that ghastly hole in your roof.”

“The Inquisition can’t spare any materials right now,” Cullen said, wondering why almost every visitor had to point out the hole. He knew it was there, he slept under it almost every night. “But I doubt you came here to critique my office.”

“Quite right. I’ve decided you Fereldens are helpless when it comes to interior design. Or anything else, really. But since I’ve been told I’m going to be staying at Skyhold for a while longer, I’m desperate for some distraction. I understand you’re a decent chess player?”

Cullen frowned. “Where did you hear that?” He hadn’t told anyone about his habits, not even Varric.

“Oh, here and there. Perhaps a little bird told me,” the mage said airily. “But that doesn't matter. I was wondering if I could steal you away and challenge you to a game.”

A bird. Perhaps Dorian had read Leliana’s background on him, which he knew for certain existed. But why would she share it with Pavus, a man whom he met briefly but didn’t know? With the exception of Varric, Cullen didn’t really know any of the Inquisitor’s companions at all actually, apart from their names and their specialties. He had observed the Inquisitor and the nine had formed a relationship that came from people bonding over tragedies and hard work but since Cullen didn’t command them, that was all he cared to know.

Though the offer to play was tempting, he really had to get back to work. And there was the matter of Leliana’s message which was clearly for his eyes alone. “I’m sorry, but perhaps another time.”

Dorian sighed, a touch dramatic as he pushed himself off the door. “A pity. I was hoping for an actual challenge but I suppose it will have to wait. I’ll hold you to that promise, Commander. Even you must realize there’s more to life than scouting reports and protecting supply lines.”

That the mage left so passively without an argument seemed odd, but Cullen decided he didn’t know the other man enough to know if that was true or not. Instead, he transferred his attention back to the sealed note, took a deep breath, and broke the wax to unfold and read the contents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I disliked ending the story on yet another cliffhanger but it was all part and parcel of me messing up the timeline which meant I had to shift things around. However, part II will be posted soon. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me on this journey. I appreciate every comment and kudos!


End file.
